


Roses Are Red

by Enmuse (Scifiroots)



Series: Crimson and Gold [5]
Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anniversary, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Psychological Trauma, Realization, Recovery, Unwanted Fondling, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-20
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-21 07:26:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scifiroots/pseuds/Enmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months after the events of "Red Light," Red John makes his presence known as Jane makes an important decision regarding his relationship with Cho. <i>Anniversaries, reunions, kidnapping, and intrigue.</i> <i>Recent Edit</i>: Jan. 19, 2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heffermonkey](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=heffermonkey), [Cedara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cedara/gifts), [x_art](https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_art/gifts).



> This is the fifth and final story of the Crimson & Gold series. You don't have to read the others for this to work, but some of the back-story will make better sense with the setup provided therein.
> 
> I dislike Kristina, as you probably know from the earlier Crimson & Gold stories. Even so, I hope I didn't wander into the territory of character-bashing, that certainly wasn't the intention.
> 
>  _This completely disregards ~~season 3~~ everything after season 2_ since most of it was written before I saw any of S3. Nothing here draws from S3 canon except for the names of Angela and Charlotte Jane. I've largely avoided spoilers so if there's any similarities, it's honest coincidence. (That said, I know what canon does with Kristina and it irritates me to no end. So in a way this story gave me a way to "fix it.")

\---

"Is there some reason you insisted on driving? And told me I had to wear my suit jacket?" Cho kept his voice even, but he was sure Jane could hear his suspicion.

The blond's lips quirked up at the corners in a smug expression Cho recognized as Jane enjoying keeping others in the dark. With an almost silent sigh, Cho settled back in his seat and tilted his face to the window. They turned onto a frontage road, avoiding the worst of the traffic on the late Thursday afternoon.

A few minutes later Cho tried again; "Where are we going?"

Jane's smile broadened into a grin. "It's a surprise, why do you think I insisted on driving?" he replied.

Rolling his eyes, Cho made a show of examining the dashboard clock. "How long is this going to take?"

"Got a hot date?" Jane teased.

Exasperated, Cho turned to glare but was caught off-guard by Jane's affectionate expression. Although their eye contact did not last long due to Jane's need to keep an eye on the road, Cho felt a jolt of desire sparked by the brief exchange. Not a "you're so sexy I want to jump you right here a now" way, but something deeper, a sort of longing that made his chest ache; it was the feeling of being on the cusp of completion.

"Well? Are we on some schedule?" Jane's voice broke the silence.

Cho quietly cleared his throat and muttered, "Just wanted to lay low for the night."

Jane cast him a secretive look and then reached over to place his hand on Cho's thigh. The blond turned his gaze back to the road while his fingertips rubbed along the inseam of Cho's pants. "Don't worry."

Those words coming from Patrick usually meant he _should_ be worried, but this time Cho decided he could take them at face value.

Over thirty minutes later Jane turned into a curved lane that led into a parking lot filled with spotless cars. Cho sat up and looked around to get a feel for the place, noticing immediately the sign for valet parking and the awning covering the short, broad flight of steps leading into a sleek-looking stone building. 

_Amici Ristorante_ was written out in fancy, nearly illegible script on the front of the awning. Two valet attendants dressed in pristine white, black, and red uniforms stood nearby.

Jane pulled into a parking spot and turned off the engine. "Here we are." The smile he turned on Cho fell short of cocky and there was a hint of anxiousness in the blond's gaze. 

Automatically Cho felt himself smiling reassuringly even though he couldn't understand why they were there. "Got a date?" he echoed the tease from earlier.

Jane patted Cho's thigh in silent reply before exiting the car. Suppressing a pleased smile, Cho followed Jane's example. 

As Jane led the way to the restaurant's entrance, Cho smoothed his jacket and straightened his tie, suddenly wondering if he was properly dressed for what was apparently an upscale place. With his salary, he rarely went for the expensive tastes though the job had taken him to upscale places for numerous investigations. Jane, however, seemed in his element as they passed into the entryway where a couple couches and settees decorated what appeared to be marble flooring.

Jane approached the maître de and spoke quietly. Cho stood just far enough away that he couldn't clearly hear the exchange, but observation proved that they were on the list. With a gesture, the maître de summoned a smartly dressed attendant to lead them through an archway and into the dining area.

"What is all this?" Cho muttered out of the side of his mouth, gaze jumping from table to table to the fine art on the walls and the patio beyond the large glass doors where they were being led.

Jane shrugged casually as they approached a small table set beside the elegantly designed wrought iron fence separating the patio from the sloping garden beyond. They sat and accepted menus from their attendant. 

Cho watched Jane open his menu, heard the order for a bottle of wine, and then they were left alone. He stared at his lover trying to piece together what was going on.

Patrick met his stare and there was a hint of embarrassment in his half-smile. 

Neither of them spoke until the wine came and glasses were poured. When they were alone again, Cho asked gently, "Why are you doing this?"

Jane seemed to focus on running his finger along the stem of his wineglass. "I wasn't sure whether it mattered to you or not..." he said quietly.

Cho looked down at the cover of his menu with a thoughtful frown. Clearly he should know what this was about but... 

They had work tomorrow yet they were out on a Thursday evening. More specifically, Jane was taking him on an expensive date. _A date._ Special occasion.

The moment he made the connection, Cho's gaze snapped to Jane's face. The blond had clearly been watching him and when their eyes met, Jane slowly smiled. Cho could see the cautiousness in Jane's posture and felt overwhelmed.

It took a few tries for him to finally speak. "I didn't really think..." Cho shook his head slowly in wonder. He had few occasions over the years to keep track of any anniversaries and it certainly hadn't occurred to him that Jane would hold such time markers with much regard. The idea of "celebrating" an anniversary with Patrick had never crossed Cho's mind; it wasn't something he thought to equate with his lover.

He reached across the table, briefly resting his hand over Jane's wrist. "Thank you," he murmured.

Jane's smile regained its full, dazzling confidence and he nodded to the menu. "Now about dinner..."

 

The food was delicious but Cho knew he would have to turn down any dessert on account of a full stomach. Jane smoothly cut in during the waiter's inquisition about dessert by requesting something to take home. Cho shook his head in amusement.

The waiter returned with the boxed dessert and cheque. Somehow in the short amount of time between Cho nodding a thank you to the waiter and having the man retreat a respectable distance, Jane had grabbed the cheque and slid a familiar shaped package in front of Cho.

"Jane..." Kimball started, trailing off when he realized he had no idea what to say. It had taken him a while to get comfortable with the rather opulent setting for their anniversary dinner (and it still felt surreal thinking that), he could hardly conceive of the cost for the meal itself, but then Jane had added a gift?

_Jeez, I didn't think we would do anything..._

Jane frowned at him knowingly. "Don't over-analyze."

Cho laughed quietly, unsure how else to deal with the nervous flutter in his stomach. Shrugging to himself, he unwrapped the package and opened the slim box. The watch that lay inside was far less ostentatious than the monstrosities Jane had bought from a casino gift shop a couple years ago. He doubted this was much less expensive, though; the understated elegance bespoke of hand craftsmanship. 

The waiter appeared at the table to accept the cheque and as he walked away, Jane leaned forward to pick up the watch. He beckoned for Cho's hand and silently Kimball complied. He felt a little ridiculous as he let Jane slide the watch onto his wrist, but the brush of fingertips against the sensitive underside of his arm sent a jolt of arousal straight down his spine. He glanced up to meet Jane's gaze and saw an answering spark of desire.

Quietly Jane teased, "It would be embarrassing for a CBI agent to get a public indecency charge."

"Then we should get out of here," Cho returned.

Jane glanced over his shoulder toward their waiter who was moving across the flagstone at a sedate pace. Cho grabbed Jane's arm in silent warning not to make a scene. He could just imagine Jane waving the man down impatiently so they could get out the door a few seconds quicker. Patrick just smirked as he accepted the receipt and stood. He had taken two steps away before reminding Cho, "Don't forget the dessert."

\---

 

**Two Months Later**

Teresa Lisbon walked into her office and promptly searched for the ibuprofen in the desk's top drawer. The headache she had hoped would go away after her morning coffee had failed to abate. She wasn't ready to give up on the caffeine yet, but she was determined to cut off the headache before it could overwhelm her. With that thought in mind, she did an about-face to grab a fresh cup of coffee from the break room before sitting down to face the morning's paperwork.

As she waited for her computer to boot up, Lisbon glanced at the bullpen. She could see Van Pelt and Cho already settled at their desks, she had met Rigsby by the coffee machine, and now she could see Jane making his way down the hall. They were a surprisingly early bunch for a Monday morning, but Saturday night had been a full moon and the days following always brought out plenty of crazy cases. 

Lisbon eyed the files in her inbox tray skeptically over her mug of coffee. She would have more to look over in her e-mail. With a sigh, she put aside her mug and started sorting through the hard-copy files: a couple of things she needed to review and sign off on, a case report from the gang unit to see if her team qualified to take the lead, an interoffice memo, and an unlabeled manila folder.

She opened the folder, expecting a case file that had simply been rushed through processing and instead found a sealed business envelope with her name typed along one edge and a piece of paper with a single typewritten line:

_'Who am I?'_

Headache instantly forgotten and barely aware of the pinging of her computer alerting new mail, Lisbon dropped the file on the desk and looked up as if the culprit would somehow still be around. Van Pelt was talking to Jane in the bullpen, Rigsby watching with an amused smile, and Cho looked like he was trying to ignore them. It didn't seem like anyone else had received something unusual.

Lisbon looked down at the envelope and debated whether she should call someone in before she opened it. "To hell with it," she muttered, digging into her go-bag to pull out a pair of gloves. She tore along the length of the envelope and parted the edges before looking inside. She frowned and shook out the contents: a wallet sized portrait of a girl with curly hair, maybe nine or ten years old.

She grabbed her phone and dialed the extension for Director Hightower's office. She didn't bother asking to be put through, straightforwardly telling the secretary, "We have a situation. I need to see the director in ten minutes." She didn't wait for a response, standing at the same time that she hung up the phone. 

Gathering the folder and its contents, Lisbon headed for the bullpen.

\---


	2. Chapter 2

\---

"Heads up!"

Cho's attention snapped to Lisbon and her tense tone. He frowned at the sight of the boss wearing gloves and carrying a plain folder.

"Boss?" Van Pelt questioned, her worry obvious by the furrow of her brow.

"Van Pelt, I need you on Missing Persons. A young girl, probably nine or ten years old. Brunette, curly hair past her shoulders." Lisbon turned to Cho and held out the folder. "Get this down to the lab, have copies made before turning it over for them to analyze. I need a copy back to Van Pelt for the picture, another copy to Hightower's office."

Cho stood and took the folder. "Yes, Boss." He couldn't resist the urge to open it. Seeing the typed line and the picture inside, he muttered a curse.

"Now, Cho," Lisbon ordered. Cho strode from the bullpen, listening to the rest of Lisbon's orders as he aimed for the elevator. "Jane, with me. Rigsby, find out who's accessed my inbox lately." He glanced over his shoulder to watch Jane and Lisbon head in the direction of Hightower's office.

\--- 

Hightower's secretary waved Cho towards the office door. He knocked to announce his presence before entering.

The director was finishing, "—could be anyone." She glanced away from Lisbon and motioned for Cho to join the trio at her desk. "Let's see the note." Cho handed a copy to Hightower and another to Lisbon.

Jane leaned into Lisbon's space to examine the note and photograph. Cho had already gotten a good look at the evidence while making and transferring the copies.

"This would be a major break in pattern," Hightower said, frowning. "Jane?"

 _Red John,_ Cho thought, not nearly as surprised as Hightower seemed to be by the possibility. 

Jane cast Lisbon a brief glance before replying. "It's out of character for Red John. Unless there's more to it..." He gave a tense shrug and Cho knew the blond hated feeling unsure.

Lisbon shook her head but didn't protest. Cho considered the evidence, or lack thereof, and said, "I'm not sure we can rule anything out." True, it had been months since Cho had received Red John's letter, but its contents and the man's established obsession with Jane suggested he would continue to watch everyone close to Jane. "It's possible this is some new whack job. The evidence doesn't give us much to go on, but it's not as if Red John's been keeping perfectly to script recently."

Hightower nodded with a subtle look of approval. "Valid point." She turned her attention back to Lisbon. "You and Van Pelt can keep on this task, but I don't want all your manpower on this unless you find a plausible lead."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Alright. Keep me informed."

Cho followed Lisbon and Jane out of the office. As they walked down the hallway, Lisbon turned to Jane and asked, "You don't really think it's Red John?"

Jane frowned briefly, reminding her, "You called me in." He held the photograph between his thumb and forefinger. He stared at it with a perplexed expression. "Something's off..."

"What?"

"Can't say." Jane sighed and tucked the photo into his pocket. "I have to think about it."

"Fine. Cho? Sorry to push the extra paperwork and follow-ups onto you and Rigsby..."

Cho waved away Lisbon's apology. "Got it, Boss. You'll figure it out."

"God I hope so," she muttered as they went their separate ways.

\---

 

Jane looked up from the book he hadn't been reading to watch Cho cross to Van Pelt's desk. The redhead didn't turn away from her computer screen as she muttered a terse, "Yes?"

Cho's lips tightened for a moment before he sighed. "Call it a day. Even the boss is packing up." He nodded towards Lisbon's office and Jane was impressed to see that she was indeed gathering her jacket and purse. "You can come in early tomorrow, but go get some rest for now."

Van Pelt turned away from the computer and leaned back in her chair to stare incredulously at Cho. "You're acting motherly all of the sudden," she said, a small smile gentling the accusation. Jane hid a laugh as Cho bristled. "Never mind. Thanks, Cho." Van Pelt reached out to pat his hand. She glanced again at her monitor with a sigh. Shoulders slumping in defeat, she began the process of shutting down the computer.

Apparently satisfied, Cho turned back to his desk. His gaze caught on Jane before quickly looking away. Much to Jane's amusement there had been a flash of embarrassment in his lover's eyes.

"Wow, and here I thought I'd have to order you home," Lisbon said as she stood in the doorway to the bullpen. She nodded approvingly, casting her gaze around the office as she checked on the members of her team. "Get some rest," she suggested.

"Find anything else?" Van Pelt asked, her expression making clear that she already knew the answer.

Lisbon shook her head then turned to meet Jane's stare. "Did you figure out what's 'off' yet?"

Jane stood up and stretched. "No." He had focused on the niggling feeling of wrongness for most of the day and determined that he needed to set it aside for the moment. Maybe it would come to him if he wasn't single-mindedly trying to sort it out. If not, he would check on the CSU's progress and maybe look at the enhanced image.

"Alright. Good night, guys." Lisbon offered a small wave before heading to the elevator.

Rigsby was ready to go but continued to hover around his desk pretending to sort through last minute necessities. Jane caught Cho's gaze and they shared exasperated smiles. Rigsby had taken to waiting around to walk Van Pelt to her car if they left late. The two were still doing their little dance of courtship even though it seemed that Van Pelt was trying to move on. It was a wonder that neither of them had tried to confront Cho or Jane about the unequal treatment Hightower was giving _their_ situation, not that Jane was about to complain. He had certainly felt the undercurrent of animosity from Rigsby during the first few weeks following their outing.

"Dinner?" Van Pelt offered, looking around at the men as she slid her purse over her shoulder.

Rigsby looked startled and Cho cast a covert glance at Jane.

With a little shrug, Patrick agreed, "Why not? What do you have in mind, Grace?"

With a sheepish grin she replied, "Promise you won't judge me when I say I need a good burger?"

Rigsby snorted in amusement and rolled his eyes. "Hamburger Mary's, right? What you eat isn't a _real_ burger."

"Oh please." The redhead grinned and started out the door. "You coming too, Cho?"

"Sure." Cho stood and pulled on his jacket. "This the place where the cross-dressing waiter tried to get Rigsby to join the drag show?"

Jane grinned at Rigsby's sputtering and Van Pelt's cheerful affirmative. Cho looked satisfied with himself and Jane had to admit that the evening was starting to look up.

\---

 

Jane slept restlessly, badgered by half lucid dreams that made him jerk awake. Cho grumbled protests and shifted around in his sleep, not fully waking in response.

By three in the morning, Jane gave up trying to sleep. For a time he lay awake, staring blankly at the wall as he listened to Cho's breathing. He lay on his side, arm tucked over Cho's waist, head nestled close to Cho's shoulder. 

The recollection of the dreams lingered at the edges of his mind. Phantom floorboards creaked. The images had blurred and although he knew that during the dreams he had recognized where he'd been, in the conscious realm he couldn't recall the setting. What had not faded was the heavy sense of dread. Even focusing on Cho's closeness, his presence, failed to bring any sense of comfort.

Eventually Jane withdrew his arm and rolled away. He slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Without turning on the light, he took Cho's robe from the door's hook and slipped it on. Patrick had his own robe, one that was a little thicker since he got cold more easily than Cho, but at the moment he preferred to keep something of his lover close.

He wandered into the kitchen and turned on the light, squinting for a minute to adjust to the change. On autopilot he pulled out the kettle and filled it with water. Once he got it settled on the burner to boil, he went to the living room to pick up one of the books he'd left on the coffee table. He also grabbed the case files he'd brought home.

Jane returned to the kitchen in time to catch the kettle before it whistled. The familiar movements of preparing his tea helped to ease some of the tension lingering from his dreams. He set the mug of steeping tea on the table and settled into a chair. He opened the book and flipped through the pages idly, debating whether he wanted to read it or look at the files. His eyes kept trailing to the files so he set aside the book. The files he had were all related to Red John and the photograph Lisbon had received.

Jane pulled out the photo and held it up. Again he looked at it closely, a frown dragging down the corners of his mouth as he tried to piece together some sort of information that the photo might hold. He had the feeling that there was something familiar about the girl, or maybe it was her surroundings — however odd it might be to recognize what little could be seen of a suburban street. 

Jane shook his head in frustration and put the picture back in its folder. He checked the tea and took a sip before looking at the other files. He took out the most recent note as well as the letter given to Cho months ago.

> You can tell mister Jane that miss Frye sends her regards. She is of the interesting notion that I am in need of rehabilitation. It's quite amusing and her methods... unorthodox. I'm sure you would like to thank her for introducing us, I'll see what we can arrange.

The knot of unease turned to lead in his belly and Jane shuddered at a sudden feel of cold that suffused his system. He tugged Cho's robe closer around him and swallowed his tea. He never wanted anyone else to encounter Red John. His own experience had been terrifying. 

There had been the unsettling revelation in Jane's first and only encounter with Red John face-to-face that the man wanted Jane alive. He'd said he had _allowed_ Patrick to live. Red John would hold no interest in keeping others alive, he had proven so time and again. Jane realized they shared the obsession with one another. He'd been arguing with himself for months since the incident, struggling to reassure himself that their shared obsession did not put them at the same level and did not mean there was some other similarity to link them.

 _You've brought them into this. You made Cho a target and have done nothing to change that._ The entire team was vulnerable, Jane knew, and he had emphasized that point after Kristina's kidnapping. Cho had come under particular interest for Red John, targeted thanks to information from Kristina.

Jane felt a sour twist at the thought of the conniving woman collaborating with a madman. He still felt a degree of pity for her with how her delusional arrogance had led her so far astray, but more strongly he felt a sick rage, knowing she was endangering the small handful of people he cared about. 

"What are you doing up?" Cho's sleepy voice came from the doorway. Jane was surprised he hadn't heard him approach.

"Nothing important." Jane turned his head and took in Cho's rumpled, sleepy appearance. He smiled at the confused expression. "What time is it?"

Cho rubbed his eyes and leaned against the door frame. "Four-thirty. Seriously, what's going on?"

Jane shrugged and closed the folders in front of him. With Cho still mostly asleep, Jane doubted his lover would realize what precisely he had been looking at. "Thought I might have a breakthrough on Lisbon's photo."

Cho nodded. "I still got an hour. Coming back to bed?"

Jane seriously considered it, but sleep did not appeal while the dreams still lurked at the edges of his mind. Neither did he like the idea of laying awake and staring at the ceiling. "No, don't think I could sleep now." He smiled apologetically. "Get some more rest. I'll make breakfast."

Cho frowned, a wrinkle of concern appearing above his narrowed eyes. Patrick stood up and moved to the doorway. He kissed Cho's forehead and when he pulled away, offered an amused smile. "Just go sleep. I'm fine."

Cho muttered something unintelligible under his breath but turned around. Jane watched his lover disappear into the bedroom before he turned back to the kitchen table.

\---


	3. Chapter 3

\---

"Got it!"

Cho pushed his chair to the side to look around his computer monitor. Jane had called loud enough that Lisbon was heading out of her office. Cho exchanged a glance with Van Pelt. Rigsby was out of the office to pick up lunch. 

Jane beamed at the attention. "Well? Is anyone going to ask?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes as she crossed to the desk where he sat. "What?"

"Our mysterious girl is much older than she looks." Cho and Van Pelt got up to look over Jane's shoulder at the laptop he had been focusing on all morning. He'd gotten a copy of the enhanced image from the labs and had been looking it over for details to offer a lead. Apparently it had paid off. "There's part of a car in the background, see?" Jane tapped the corner of the license plate. "And there's a registration tag."

Cho frowned when he realized the year. Van Pelt said, "Seventy-five? But the photo doesn't look that old."

Lisbon shook her head. "The photo could be doctored. I think Jane's right."

"What'd I miss?" Rigsby walked into the bullpen with a bag from the deli a block away. "Does this mean we're skipping lunch?"

Shaking her head, Lisbon explained, "Jane figured out our missing 'girl' isn't so much a girl as she is now a woman. I'll call down to ask the techs to see if there's been any editing of the photograph." She glanced at her watch. "Well, I'll leave a message." 

"What should I do about missing persons?" Van Pelt asked.

"Get someone to age the photo and compare reports," Lisbon said.

Cho added. "And do a search with adjusted years." He shrugged when Lisbon shot him an amused glance.

Rigsby set the bag on the edge of the desk and started handing out their meals. "Think this is a good enough lead to make it an official case?" he asked as he handed Lisbon her sandwich.

Cho frowned. "I doubt it." They would need find out if their adjusted search yielded anything usable. 

He took his sandwich back to his desk to eat while he checked over his report.

A few minutes later Jane wandered over to sit on the edge of the desk.

"Paperwork?"

Cho didn't reply verbally, just darted a telling stare at his lover. Jane smirked and took a bite of his sandwich.

Forgoing further reviewing while the blond was around, Cho leaned back in his chair and focused his attention on Jane. 

"This clear up your 'off' feeling?" Cho asked.

Jane frowned at that and his gaze turned inward. Cho waited silently, working on his sandwich. He glanced around the office and noticed that Rigsby and Lisbon had left to eat elsewhere. Van Pelt ate at her desk, stare focused on her computer as she frowned at whatever (lack of) results she was getting.

"She's... familiar in some way," Jane said. Cho could tell from his tone that Jane was frustrated by not being able to make the connection.

"No clue why?" Cho asked. He hid a grimace when he saw Jane's hand clench in frustration. He hadn't meant to further the irritation.

"It'll come to me," Jane muttered. He stood and seemed to shrug off his previous demeanor. "I'm getting tea, want anything?"

Cho considered the headache lurking and just waiting to come on full force. "Coffee," he answered.

Jane nodded and walked out, munching on his sandwich as he went.

\---

 

Van Pelt was at her computer, still running data through the Missing Persons database, now with adjusted parameters. She had to look through the individual reports from the earlier decades, searching for some idea if they had any leads there. The afternoon should yield results from the lab about the aged version of their photograph. That should help the search, Lisbon figured, and Van Pelt just felt impatient to have something new to work with.

Rigsby's exclamation of "Whoa, who're those for?" made her look up. She blinked as one of the receptionists from the main floor walked into the bullpen and crossed to her desk. He carried a large vase of colorful flowers.

"What's this?" she asked, eyes wide.

The guy shrugged with a little grin and suggested, "An admirer, maybe?"

Van Pelt chanced a glance towards Rigsby and watched him scowl. She felt a little concerned. As flattering as it was to receive flowers from someone, she had no idea who might have decided to send these. Given the unpleasantness that could come from unexpected deliveries in her line of work, she eyed the vase cautiously as it was set on her desk.

"Envelope there in the middle," the secretary assured. He smiled and with a little wave, departed from the office.

Van Pelt blinked at the flowers and the envelope sticking up in between the multitude of colors. She glanced around the bullpen and saw her colleagues staring at her with open curiosity.

"What's this?" Lisbon's voice came from behind her and Van Pelt turned around.

"Um, special delivery?"

Lisbon eyed the vase with the same skepticism Van Pelt felt. "Note?"

"Yeah." Van Pelt reached for the envelope and pulled it out. She stared at the slightly distended paper and warily noted her name typed across the middle. "Boss..." she said quietly. 

Rigsby was up in a second and came over to her desk. He held out his hand for the envelope like he should be protecting her from something. Van Pelt glanced up, half annoyed and half touched. She waved him off before opening the letter herself.

As she parted the edges to look inside, she heard Cho and Jane join the gathered scene around her desk. 

"Hair...?" Van Pelt felt her eyebrows arch in surprise. "Um, someone have gloves?"

Cho's hands came into view, gloved in familiar blue. Van Pelt let him reach in to handle the contents. Carefully he lifted the small bunch of hair tied with ribbon. 

"Same color as the picture," Jane noted immediately.

"Like a child's memento," Lisbon added with a small frown. 

Jane leaned over, apparently to get eye level with the hair. "There's some long strands in there."

Van Pelt looked closer at what Cho held and nodded. "Yeah. And there's... the roots are still attached."

Lisbon let out a sigh of relief. "DNA. Get that to the lab immediately. Is there a note?"

Van Pelt looked inside and nodded to Cho. He reached in with his free hand to pull out the small piece of paper, then replaced the hair. He held the card up between his blue covered fingers and read aloud:

_"Who am I?"_

"Same as before," Rigsby muttered.

Lisbon rubbed her face with her palm. "Well, at least we have something solid to work with. Once we get the DNA report back we'll be able to get Hightower to approve the case."

"Probably," Jane murmured, sounding distracted. His attention had fixed on the vase of flowers.

Lisbon shot him a curious look but waved at Van Pelt. "Take that down to the labs and put it as high priority. Then check who delivered the flowers. We'll start backtracking the route, see if there's some trace of who sent them ."

Van Pelt nodded and went to do just that.

\--- 

Lisbon allowed Jane another minute to examine the flowers before asking, "What is it?"

With his hands in his pockets, Jane rocked back on his heels. "Symbolism," he stated. He glanced briefly at Cho, a flash of concern crossing his expression. "Rhododendron, calendula, and cyclamen," he identified.

Rigsby leaned over the vase to look closer. "And what're they supposed to mean?"

Jane answered, "Caution, grief, resignation, goodbye." Lisbon, Cho, and Rigsby stared at him. Jane affected a casual shrug. "Could be wrong."

 _I doubt it,_ Lisbon thought grimly. She looked again at the flowers. "Not your usual choices, probably required special order. Let's hope that even if the order wasn't placed in person that there's information to work with."

She looked up at her team and noticed how Jane was watching Cho from the corner of his eyes. _Caution... grief... goodbye,_ she repeated to herself. It was the sort of message Red John would send. Given that the most recent attention had focused on Cho, Lisbon felt her own sense of unease rising.

"What now, boss?" Rigsby asked. He shot a look at Cho and Jane.

"The gang unit wants to borrow Cho for an interview." Lisbon gestured toward her office. "Rigsby, I have another case you could help on." She glanced at Jane with a frown but decided to leave him be for the moment.

\---


	4. Chapter 4

\---

It would take two days for the DNA results to come in. In the meantime, the aged photograph was submitted to Lisbon, who shared it with Hightower before meeting with the team to show them the results.

"That's..." Van Pelt's jaw dropped.

Cho wasn't sure what to feel about the computer generated approximation of Kristina Frye. Red John was the sender, no doubt about it now.

Cho glanced at Jane, who stared off into the distance with a frown on his face.

"Hightower's approved focus on this," Lisbon said.

Looking unusually serious, Rigsby commented, "This is just the start. Isn't it?"

Van Pelt shivered, Cho didn't blame her. He felt chilled himself. 

"Do... do you think Kristina's alive?" Van Pelt asked quietly.

Cho exchanged a wary look with Lisbon. "Anything's possible," he said.

"What's the point?" When Rigsby received skeptical looks in response to the question, he clarified, "I mean, what does he want?"

"Pretty sure we'll find out soon enough," Cho said. He glanced out of the corner of his eyes at Jane, starting to worry about the blond's silence.

Lisbon scrubbed a hand over her face and sighed. "Look, there's not a whole lot more we can do today. Go home and get some rest."

Rigsby and Van Pelt nodded. Cho stood up and headed to his desk to wrap up for the day. He heard the other chairs push out from the conference table.

Lisbon started back to her office but paused near Van Pelt's desk and turned around. Her expression lined with worry, she said, "And be careful. Red John's shown he'll take captives and he's already threatened... us." She looked pointedly at Cho. 

He didn't need her to remind him. He had the words of Red John's letter etched into his mind and the words were already threatening to overwhelm him. The note's suggestion of arranging a meeting with Kristina, did Red John mean releasing her (alive or dead) to them? Or taking Cho?

It took him a couple minutes to realize that the entire team was staring at him. He was tempted to mutter _"I'm not the only target,"_ but he acknowledged that he did seem the most likely.

Eventually he said, "Got it, Boss."

Rigsby's attention changed to Van Pelt and Cho recognized the protective expression. Looked like those two would be watching each other. Cho would be with Jane... He suddenly felt an uneasy sense of foreboding. Cho may be the obvious target from their group, but Lisbon was the one who would be on her own.

Jane apparently had come to the same conclusion. He crossed the bullpen and leaned in close to mutter something in Lisbon's hearing only. She scowled at whatever it was and turned towards her office. Jane merely followed after, apparently unperturbed by the negative reaction.

\---

 

Cho startled as his phone went off. It buzzed across the surface of his desk until he picked it up and slid aside the top. He noticed from the corner of his eye that Jane had turned to glance his way. An unknown sender had sent a string of numbers:

_38 332018 121 28814_

Cho tried to call up further information on the sender but could only get a website that did not look too promising. AnonAdmirers.net? Really?

He turned to his computer and opened the website in a browser. Rigsby smothered a chuckle, watching over Cho's shoulder.

"Shut up," Cho muttered, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes.

Jane apparently decided the goings-on were of too much interest to pass up. He stood and moved around Cho's desk to lean over his shoulder. "What are you doing?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Cho clicked on the "about us" section of the website and skimmed the few paragraphs as he replied distractedly, "Phone, text message."

Jane picked up the phone. Cho focused on the writing on-screen. Apparently AnonAdmirers.net was a way for so-termed "secret admirers" to admit their love and devotion anonymously. Various stages could be followed depending on what the customer wanted. Cho clicked on services and found the first link for sending texts or emails from an Anonymous Admirers account that would keep the client's identity secret.

"Something up?" Rigsby asked, sounding serious.

Cho nodded but turned towards Van Pelt. "Can we get a request in for a website to find customer information?"

"What's going on?"

Jane got up to bring Van Pelt the phone. "Red John just used an anonymous site to send Cho a text."

Van Pelt examined the numbers with a puzzled frown. "The website?"

"AnonAdmirers dot net," Cho answered.

"Yeah... let me get started on that. Client has to pay for services?" She was already typing in the address on her own computer.

Rigsby stood up to get a look at the phone. "Just some numbers?"

"Yeah," Cho sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "Too long for a phone number or social security."

"Package tracking number?" Rigsby offered, looking doubtful.

Van Pelt looked again at the cell's screen as she reached for her phone. She paused, a look of understanding brightening her features. "Oh! Coordinates, right? That works?"

Jane offered her a small smile. "Yes. "

The redhead smiled at the implied praise and turned back to her computer, abandoning the phone call. "Then let's see where it puts us..."

Cho stood and came to join the others. 

"Degrees, minutes, seconds," Jane reminded. "Try North and West." After a few minutes of adjusting the numbers, Van Pelt's searched yielded a location of a building in an older section of downtown.

"Get Lisbon," Cho told Jane.

\---

 

They gathered with the CBI special tactics team before leaving headquarters. An ambulance would be waiting for them near the location. A hostage negotiator was on standby.

Jane refused to stay behind, but between Cho's, Lisbon's, and Hightower's strict glowers and demands, he had agreed to stay in the car behind safety lines until Lisbon gave the all clear and explicitly stated he could join the scene. The rest of the team would go in with ready gear. They were taking no chances, everyone was instructed to follow rules to the letter and be clear in any communications.

They had figured out that their target was a parking structure undergoing remodels. The workers were off for the weekend and there had been no problems previously with break-ins so security had been lax with occasional patrols in the area.

Floor by floor the four ramp levels were cleared by the special tactics team as they led the way up. Cho stuck close to Lisbon, both at the ready with guns drawn and vests on. They remained silent, refraining from spoken directions and relying on gestured motions to get messages across. As they exited the stairwell onto the roof at one corner, it became clear they had found their mark.

"No one else here!" the team leader called as he sent his team to spread out along the edges of the structure to ensure there was no one else present.

Lisbon and Cho ran across the lot towards the woman laying at the center. Lisbon had holstered her gun by the time they reached the body. Kristina Frye lay on her side, expression lax. Cho didn't breathe, wondering what the results would be as Lisbon bent to take the woman's pulse.

"She's alive!" Lisbon called out. "Need the ambulance!"

Cho used the walkie-talkie and they waited for the ambulance to roll up to the roof level. In the meantime the stairwell door burst open and Jane ran towards them, face pale . He beat the ambulance there by only a few seconds and Cho intercepted him, catching Jane's arm to hold him back.

Lisbon glanced up at them and reassured, "She seems to be breathing pretty regularly. I'm guessing drugged." She looked down again at the woman dressed in plain clothes, less stylish than her usual wear but nothing that looked in poor condition . In fact, Cho wasn't sure he would say that she looked less healthy than she had the last time they'd seen her. Results of the hair analysis had placed her within the average range of nutrition. She may not have experienced the level of comfort as was her norm, but it didn't seem that she'd suffered malnutrition.

Cho felt the uneasiness of the last few days knot in his stomach. He watched the EMTs bring over the gurney and gently lift Kristina onto it and bring her to the back of the ambulance. He glanced at Jane and studied the mixed expression of anxiety and relief and something else difficult to define. Under Cho's hand, Jane's muscles felt tense, ready to spring into action. 

The knot of apprehension grew . Cho dropped his gaze and slowly withdrew his hand. He didn't know what to do but he would step back and let Lisbon lead the way. Let her figure out how to handle the situation.

"The crime scene unit will take this," Lisbon said. She beckoned Van Pelt and Rigsby closer. "Cho, you and Van Pelt head to the hospital and find out Kristina's status. The rest of us are heading back to report to Hightower and pick up on the rest of our case."

Jane looked like he would protest, but Lisbon's sharp glare made it obvious she wasn't going to accept any arguments.

"Yes, Boss," they agreed.

\---

 

Kristina would not be available for questioning until the next day. Cho and Van Pelt returned to the office to explain the full report once the CBI had established a couple of guards at the hospital for Kristina's protection. They didn't know the situation of her release or if Red John had further interest in her so they wanted to keep a close watch.

Jane restlessly paged through the newspaper as he perched on the edge of the couch cushion. Cho could read the frustration from the hallway. Van Pelt also took a look at him and bit her lip. She glanced briefly at Cho, probably to gauge his reaction, but made no comment.

Rigsby and Lisbon sat at the conference table, reviewing the files from the evidence already gathered. Rigsby was updating further with the payment report from AnonAdmirers.net. The credit card that had been used belonged to Kristina. The card company had not yet gotten around to informing the CBI about the transaction that should have been tagged.

"How soon do we go in?" Jane asked standing up as he folded the newspaper. He dropped it onto the couch and he crossed the bullpen to join the rest of the team.

Van Pelt took a seat as she replied, "Visiting hours open at nine, we can head in then."

"What did the doctors say?" Lisbon asked, getting down to business.

Cho sat next to Van Pelt and Jane took the chair opposite, next to Lisbon.

"She'd been drugged with sodium thiopental to keep her unconscious and probably malleable before that. The nurses report no notice of serious injuries, only a couple bruises and scrapes that would be from regular daily activity. The more in-depth test results will be back later this evening so they'll have the information for us tomorrow," Van Pelt explained. 

Lisbon nodded. "Was she conscious when you left?"

Cho shook his head. "The doctor thinks it might take a few more hours. The dosage was pretty high, bordering on dangerous. She'll be pretty out of it even when she does wake up."

"All the more reason to wait until tomorrow to see her," Lisbon said, her tone indicating that the comment was directed at Jane.

"So what are we doing with the rest of this?" Van Pelt asked motioning to the files spread out on the table. "There didn't seem to be anything that turned up to lead us to Red John."

Jane said, "Kristina's the best chance. She has an eye for detail, it's in the job requirement. Depending on how she was treated, she should have information to share that could lead us to him." Cho and Lisbon exchanged a wary look at that, both heard the undercurrent of tension.

"So..."

Lisbon started reorganizing her files and shut them away in folders. "We're done for the day. Tomorrow I want everyone here bright and early. We'll see what comes in from CSU. If we have something to work with, I want Rigsby and Van Pelt to sort out from here. Jane, you'll be with Cho and I at the hospital to see Kristina."

The blond nodded tightly, eyes alight with an emotion Cho wasn't sure he wanted to identify. The knot of uneasiness hadn't lessened.

As they stood up to get ready to leave, Cho felt Jane following close on his heels. When Cho glanced over his shoulder while shutting down his computer, he was confused by Jane's expression. Jane had the look that there was a serious conversation they needed to have and Cho wasn't going to like it.

A few feet away, Lisbon stood eyeing them and arched an eyebrow in silent question at Cho. He made a quick hand gesture to wave her off; this was something private, he could tell. That didn't mean that Lisbon wouldn't need to know, but it would be best handled between just Jane and Cho for now.

They didn't talk until they were on the way home in Cho's SUV. Jane affected a relaxed slouch in the passenger seat as he stared out the window with a casual half-lidded gaze.

"About tomorrow, I have something I need to do in the afternoon."

Cho chanced a look over at the blond but, as was common, Jane managed to keep hidden any clue of what he might be thinking.

"Okay. Shouldn't you be telling Lisbon this?"

Jane said, "It'll take me awhile. I might not be by tomorrow night."

That surprised Cho. He waited for a red light before he turned to look more fully at his lover. Jane seemed to studiously avoid Cho's gaze while still retaining his calm appearance. 

"What are you doing?" Cho asked cautiously, not convinced he would get a response.

Jane was silent for long moments before giving a jerky shrug. His voice was a little tight when he said, "A private matter I need to take attend to."

 _Oh._ Cho didn't say it aloud, knew that he needed to keep quiet or else sound petty or angry or worried. He was on-edge already with Kristina's return and the mystery that lay within her time of absence; he didn't appreciate having Jane say he needed to do something secretive at the same time. 

\---


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This contains probably the most difficult scene I had to write. I'm not completely sure why it was difficult, but it's one that I'm still a bit worried about. Maybe it's because it's an all-Jane scene and also there's a bit that reminds me of X-art's latest story. (I promise that's coincidence. It just goes to show Cho/Jane fans seems to share mind space at times.)

\---

They ate leftovers for dinner in front of the TV as some particularly mundane sci-fi show played in the background. There was something in Jane's admission that Cho felt sure he needed to know and he wasn't ready to let the subject drop. Internally he grimaced at the thought of attempting to get Jane to open up. 

Even before the sexual and romantic entanglements of their relationship, Cho knew he would have to make certain allowances when it came to relating to Jane. Cho wasn't a particularly open person, either, but there were certain barriers around Jane that seemed insurmountable. 

Cho still felt a certain astonishment that Jane had made such an impressive effort to celebrate their anniversary. It had been wholly unexpected. Cho hadn't prepared for it, certainly. He had only given the date a passing thought, assuming that it wasn't something Jane would be interested in paying attention to. Even when their relationship began to evolve and became more than casual sexual liaisons, Cho was unclear where he stood. Jane's history was complex and his private life largely locked away. Familiarity, time, and their emotional connection lent Cho a certain degree of ability to "read" Patrick Jane, but that meant little when it came to the more private matters of Jane's past.

Cho froze as he suddenly made the connections. He glanced at Jane from the corner of his eye. Jane kept particularly closemouthed when it came to his family. Quickly piecing together his thoughts, Cho closed his eyes and sighed internally. Another anniversary? _Shit._

What was he supposed to do with this new revelation? Cho knew that any attempt he made to get the subject out in the open would be seen as prying, and he wasn't sure of the full extent of the risk. Would it be seen as betrayal? Would Jane be hurt? Angry? 

Cho couldn't deny the longing he felt to offer his lover comfort. If he had his dates right, this would be the seventh year since the murder of Jane's family. Without asking, he felt sure that Jane had marked all the previous anniversaries alone. Probably followed by vows to kill the man who had murdered them.

Cho was roused from his inner brooding by the sound of Jane's voice. 

"What?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound nearly as muddled as he felt.

Jane tilted his head and studied Cho with a careful gaze. "Shouldn't I be asking that question?"

Cho took a few moments before he responded, attempting to choose his words carefully. "I could go with you," Cho offered quietly, trying for a tone that balanced sincerity with casualness.

Jane's expression abruptly became shuttered.

Despite the clear warning signs to back off, Cho remained sitting close to Jane. With conscious effort he managed to relax his body, providing silent invitation as he said, "At least consider coming ho—here, after." Until that moment Cho hadn't realized how prepared he was to include Jane in his sense of "home." 

Whatever Jane felt on the subject remained a mystery. Cho saw only the briefest flicker of emotion in Jane's eyes before his expression again closed off.

In a tight voice Jane said, "We'll see." He turned his gaze to the television, ostensibly to watch... it looked like it was _Ghost Hunters_ ; occasionally they watched it, mostly because Jane got a kick out of making fun of it. Cho doubted the blond was actually paying attention to it at the moment.

Holding back a sigh of frustration, Cho stood and went to do dishes in the kitchen. He hoped their distance didn't last all night.

\---

 

Cho approached the hospital room with apprehension. He doubted he was the only one feeling uneasy, but he wondered if Lisbon felt as distrustful of the situation as he did. Cho doubted that Jane was putting much faith in Kristina, although he shouldn't assume. Jane's reactions when it came to Kristina were somewhat unpredictable. It was always a little surprising how invested Jane became when she was around. When Cho thought back on it, it wasn't so surprising that at the time Rigsby had seen something more, or at the least the potential for something more between Kristina and Jane. Cho, of course, knew better. Even though he didn't have a full understanding of how he and Jane fit together, Cho knew that Kristina didn't have a chance. If she ever had before, it was unquestionably absent now. He knew as well as Jane that the woman had gone freely with Red John. The current question was whether she had been kept against her will, and how and why she had been returned.

Lisbon cleared their way through the posted guards. Before entering the room she gave Jane a meaningful glare of warning and she directed a less steely look Cho's way. 

As soon as the door opened, a familiar voice, only slightly muddled from drug aftereffects, greeted them. "Agent Lisbon, Agent Cho... Patrick."

Lisbon was a study of professionalism. She walked over to the bed and held out her hand to accept Kristina's in a handshake. "Good morning, Ms. Frye. How are you feeling?"

The woman smiled slightly, looking a little wane. "I'm a bit... woozy, I suppose is the best way to describe it. The doctor assures me that will soon pass." She looked beyond Lisbon and ran her gaze over Cho dismissively before turning to Jane.

Cho kept his breathing even to counteract the temptation of rising irritation. She was eyeing Jane like a predator, sizing him up. She had done so in the past, but now it was potentially loaded with something darker.

Lisbon cleared her throat as she pulled up a chair that had been set against the wall. "If you're feeling up to it, we have a few questions, Ms. Frye."

Kristina's gaze went back to Lisbon. "I imagine more than a few," she said, eyebrow arching. She held the remote to raise the bed's head so that she could sit up more naturally. She folded her hands in her lap and again turned her stare to Cho and Jane. 

Jane wandered around to the opposite side of the bed, and Cho was annoyed by the way Kristina's eyes followed him . Her attention had successfully been diverted away from the official interviewers, probably just as Jane had intended.

"How have you been?" Jane asked conversationally, his expression neutral with just a slight hint of a smile. Cho reluctantly moved to stand beside Lisbon but didn't meet her gaze she when she turned to look up at him.

Kristina inclined her head thoughtfully. "It has been... interesting. Even enlightening." She paused, her head turning so that she could look over the CBI agents. "I apologize for your stress over my well-being. It was not luxurious, but I fared much better than anything you feared."

Cho saw Jane's smile slip as a hint of disdain slipped through. He had masked it again by the time Kristina returned her attention to the blond, but Jane's expression had turned brittle.

"Oh Patrick, don't be like that," she said with a patronizingly soothing tone. "In order to attempt some work with John, I had to give a little to gain his trust."

Jane's shoulders tensed. His voice was chilly when he replied, "You were arrogant and deliberately cruel. You put everyone in danger."

"Including yourself," Lisbon broke in. Everyone's gaze turned to her and even she looked a little startled. Cho wondered why she had bothered to interrupt, Kristina definitely had more than a simple reprimand coming. Even if they could do nothing official... although perhaps Hightower could be convinced to file obstruction of justice charges if they played their cards right; it was an indulgent fantasy, but damn it, Cho had a bad feeling about the woman.

Lisbon took over while she still had their attention. "Do you know how long you've been gone?"

Frye took a moment to consider, then shook her head. "No. A few months, I'm sure, but the exact number I couldn't say."

"Almost five months," Lisbon said gently. "Where have you been during that time?"

Kristina looked ready to dismiss the question out of hand. Cho narrowed his eyes as he glared at her, silently daring her to try brushing them off. She gathered herself together then and replied, "A few places. I think... yes, six different locations. There isn't a lot of description I can offer you, however. And during travel I often... slept."

Jane scoffed quietly but she ignored him. 

"Kristina you realize we'd like to get some details, right?" Lisbon prompted gently. Cho pulled out a notepad and pen in case Frye did actually decide to cooperate. He didn't expect much at the moment.

"Yes, yes, of course, Agent Lisbon." She turned her attention away from Lisbon, however, and her gaze fell on Cho, watching him intently. "You don't like me very much."

Cho kept his expression impassive as he replied, "I don't trust you."

The brunette shook her head with a sigh, as if he was being particularly foolish. "You simply refuse to open your mind."

"To what?" Jane interrupted impatiently. He looked like he was on the verge of rolling his eyes. Kristina didn't turn to face him though her eyes flicked to the side. The blond's lips tightened in frustration and he rounded the bed to stand slightly in front of Cho. "What do you expect us to 'open our minds' to?"

Kristina's chin lifted in a stubborn set. "What you should already be aware of, Patrick." She stared at him without a hint of wariness. She barely blinked, she was perfectly composed. "Red John is not the nightmare you imagine him to be. That is behind him, behind all of us, now."

Cho stepped forward, hand automatically going to grip Jane's elbow. He knew Jane was already on-edge with the significance of the day's date plus innate wariness of Kristina.

"You're an idiot," Cho muttered, ignoring Lisbon's sharp look. He shook his head and stepped forward to draw Frye's attention to him. "You honestly believe a man who's murdered over a dozen people has some goodness to pardon his actions?"

Calmly she replied, "And how many have you killed in your roles, Agent Cho? How many would you kill to protect others and yourself?"

Cho bristled, fingers tightening around his pen.

Lisbon stood abruptly and held her hands up, one in the direction of Kristina and the other in front of Cho and Jane. "Hold it. Cho, please." She sent him an imploring look and reluctantly he stepped back, nearly trembling with anger. She eyed Jane cautiously and then looked at Kristina. "Ms. Frye, we're willing to listen, but let's try to avoid intentional provocation," Lisbon warned, expression tight with restrained emotion.

Kristina gave a curt nod, somehow managing to look as if she had been the one offended. "John is just a man who is misunderstood and became larger than life thanks to the media casting a nightmarish hue to his persona. I am merely trying to answer Patrick's question."

"What makes you think Red John can be redeemed?" Lisbon asked, the twist of her mouth indicating how distasteful and unbelievable she found the words.

"I acknowledge your skepticism. John did some horrible things in the past; he accepts those mistakes. His soul is quite troubled and his past has been full of so many trials."

Jane's jaw was clenched so tight it was a wonder that Cho didn't hear his teeth grinding together. Cho had the feeling that the only reason that neither he nor Lisbon was interrupting was because they had no idea how to respond to Kristina's claims. In all honesty, Red John's motivations meant little to Cho, there was no explanation that would justify the murders he committed.

Kristina leaned forward, her stare intent on Jane. "If you would only open your senses. Use your gift, Patrick, and you will finally understand."

Cho didn't think he had ever seen Jane as frigid as he was right then. His eyes were like ice and flinty hard. For a moment Cho was convinced he and Lisbon would have to step in to keep Jane in check, although Cho wouldn't have minded knocking some sense into the self-proclaimed psychic.

Instead, Jane turned sharply on his heel and strode for the door. "You'll get nothing from her," he said in a clipped tone. The design of the door was the only thing that kept it from slamming shut after his departure.

Kristina's sigh drew Cho's attention. When she noticed, a cold look entered her eyes and her lips tightened.

"You're not helping him. In fact, you're holding him back," she accused.

Cho stared at her, expression stony. "Are you going to answer our questions or not?"

She looked irritated that he hadn't reacted. Kristina pursed her lips and turned her gaze to Lisbon. "I think you should come back this afternoon, Agent Lisbon. I should be feeling better by then."

Lisbon nodded, a careful look of neutrality in place. "If that's what you want." She turned to Cho and he recognized the frustrated set of her shoulders. "Come on," she muttered as she passed him on the way to the door.

Cho was about to step out into the hall when he caught Kristina's harsh whisper, "You're going to hurt him. You have no idea what you're doing."

He didn't bother to look back.

\---

 

Jane stood in front of his car door for a moment, staring at his fingers clutching the handle and wondering if he should wait. No, he needed to get away and avoid facing the questions or concerned looks. He needed to get away before he did something stupid like walk back into the hospital and shake some sense into Kristina. If he had ever thought positively of her before, and he once had found her amusing and a little intriguing, that was now long gone. She'd always been obsessive about her claims of psychic ability. She had all the characteristics of a show person: charisma (perhaps not as good as his, if he was allowed to judge), arrogance, presence. Plus she lacked the common sense of when to back away. He didn't know the details yet of her months with Red John, but they had changed her and not for the better. 

Jane shook his head as he got behind the wheel and pulled out from the parking space. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly and he took a hard right turn out of the structure. 

He was doing a reasonable job of blocking out Kristina's voice in his head even if he couldn't fully suppress the emotions she had evoked. He'd expected to have more pity for her, perhaps even sympathy; he felt anything but sympathetic. While he did feel some pity, his anger nearly overwhelmed it. That wasn't surprising given how she'd attempted to make comparisons between Cho and Red John. She wanted to stir up trouble, Jane knew, but he didn't know if she had a precise reason for the unbelievably idiotic comment. 

At the moment he didn't care to think on it too deeply. He had other things to do and he needed to refocus his energy. He would follow through on his yearly ritual and take the rest of the day alone. Jane pushed aside the memory of Cho's look of hurt before he'd managed to shutter his expression.

It took a little over an hour and a half to reach the cemetery where his wife and daughter were interred. On the way he stopped at the usual floral shop and picked up the pre-ordered bouquets. He wondered, as he did every year, if there was any point to picking up the flowers and offering them at the grave sites. But it was part of the tradition and Angela had always loved tiger lilies. He wouldn't deny her memory, whether or not her soul lingered. 

He parked his car in the little lot of the cemetery and took the bouquets with him when he got out. He was in no rush, so he took the curving path at a sedate pace. He idly looked over the headstones and statues lined across the well-kempt grass. The occasional mausoleum stood out from the more subdued markers. A few trees dotted the landscape, but usually only flowering bushes decorated the ground.

Cresting a hill, Jane veered from the paved path and moved across the grass. His gaze locked on his destination and he felt his steps slow until he came to a stop some distance away. He stood there and stared, letting the breeze tug at his jacket and hair. Somewhere a car horn sounded, loud enough to carry from the main road a couple miles away. 

He shifted the flowers in his hand and then came closer. Gently he laid the daisies at the base of the grave marker engraved with Charlotte's name. His fingertips brushed against the marble and he shivered at the cool surface. He set the tiger lilies by Angela's grave. 

With a quiet sigh, Jane folded his legs and sat down facing the two markers. He traced the engraved letters with his gaze, acknowledged the passage of years with a sense of detachment. It sometimes felt like he had lost them a lifetime ago. In a sense he had; he was a different man now, with a new life. How could he not have changed when he lost them? But there were still times it felt like he had lost them only a short time ago. That feeling had come less and less lately, and it wasn't hard to identify the reason why.

Kimball.

As much as Jane's life had changed due to his focus on what he had lost and his goal of revenge, the past few years had built up meaningful friendships. His connections to life, to the world around him, had changed. He was changing too, especially since he started developing his relationship with Cho. 

Jane glanced down at his hands and realized that he had been twisting his wedding ring around his finger. He stopped as soon as he noticed, but didn't move his fingers from the band. He stared at the thin stripe of pale, nearly white skin that had been revealed with the ring's displacement. It was strange to feel the wind brush the skin that was always covered. And he wondered...

He twisted the ring back into place and then held his hands out in front of him, staring at his spread fingers. He wondered how others saw him, what it looked like to his teammates when he continued to wear his wedding ring seven years after he lost his family.

He wondered what it told Cho about him. Jane frowned and tucked his hands into his lap. He looked again at the grave markers and watched silently as the flower petals moved with the breeze. 

He remembered Kimball's offer the night before, _"I could come with you."_ They didn't talk much about Jane's past and even less about his family. Not that they spoke much about Cho's past, either, but given that they spent much of their time together at Cho's apartment, he was a lot more open for view.

For the first time in years, Jane wondered if he was offering all he should. He'd known for half a year that his relationship with Cho was growing into something much deeper than he expected. That he had made the effort to acknowledge an anniversary, that he _wanted_ to celebrate, had come as a shock. He'd been alternately nervous or elated or irritated or some combination of the three. Jane hadn't anticipated the urge he would have to make his relationship with Cho more permanent.

Jane looked again at his hands and stared at his wedding band. In the quiet of the afternoon breeze and watched only by the sun overhead, he slowly twisted the ring and pulled it gently from its snug position. He held it between finger and thumb after he took it off and just stared at it. His bare ring-finger felt naked, a little strange, but not entirely unpleasant. 

He sighed quietly and closed his hand around the ring. He looked at Angela's gravestone and quietly admitted, "There are times when, just for a moment, I can forget." 

Did that make him a bad person? He supposed not, but it _was_ changing him. In general he slept better and had fewer nightmares. He actually took the time to relax. More often than not he preferred the company of his friends to the solitude of his thoughts. In the past several months, Jane discovered he could imagine life "after;" destroying Red John was no longer "the end." He _wanted_ to live, and that was a surprisingly new feeling.

Jane opened his hand and traced his wedding ring with a fingertip. The gold was warm from his body heat and the sun reflected off its surface. He wasn't ready to leave it behind, he had yet to close the book on that part of his life, something he could only do when Red John was dead.

He hesitated before putting on the wedding ring again and stared at Angela's grave. He imagined the sound of her laugh, the warmth of her smile, and how she had made him feel complete. The memories made him ache, but the pain lessened when he thought of his nights spent with Cho. Especially when he thought of the stunned, touched expression on Kimball's face on the evening of their anniversary.

Jane slipped on his ring with a wry smile. "You'd be happy for me, wouldn't you," he murmured wonderingly. He had not spoken aloud, hadn't made any attempt to speak to inanimate gravestones, for years. What little faith he once had was long gone, but for today, he would give into temptation and pretend for a moment that they were around to hear.

Settling in to spend a few more hours at the resting place of his family, Jane shifted position and made himself more comfortable. 

\---

 

Cho took off his watch as he settled into bed. He picked up the book sitting on the nightstand but couldn't focus on the words. It wasn't so late that he felt the pressing need to sleep, but it was late enough to make clear that Jane wasn't coming by. Cho rubbed a hand over his face as he remembered the conversation from the previous night.

After the long day involving the failed interview with Kristina and reviewing the preliminary findings from CSU, Cho had headed home. He'd hoped and, as much as he didn't want to admit his disappointment, he had expected Jane to be at the apartment. Cho came home to dark rooms. He heated up leftovers and ate dinner alone with a bad SyFy movie flickering across the television. By the time he did dishes, Cho knew he would be spending the night alone. That wasn't completely unheard of, since he and Jane didn't exactly live together, but nights apart had become pretty rare. Coupled with Jane's behavior when visiting Kristina Frye, Cho admitted to himself that he was a little worried. He went as far as calling Jane's phone but voicemail kicked in and he hung up.

With a sigh Cho replaced his bookmark and set the novel aside. He turned off the lamp and slid beneath the sheets. Turning on his side, he reached for Jane's pillow and tucked it close. The blond got a kick out of Cho's coping habit, but Cho was damned if he could break from it now; he'd grown used to the other man lying beside him.

Cho didn't know how long he laid there, but when he finally drifted off he fell into restless dreams.

\---


	6. Chapter 6

\---

Jane frowned down at the mismatched button on his vest. He wasn't sure how he'd managed that on the way out of the house. He fixed the mistake in the elevator and ran another self-check to make sure he hadn't missed something else. The day would involve enough curious looks without a raised eyebrow at some disorganized appearance. Plus Cho was likely to get worried.

Jane was coming in early, at least for him, to catch up with the case and any potential progress made the previous afternoon. Lisbon would be itching to corner him and ask about his absence, but Jane was betting Van Pelt or Rigsby, or even Cho, would get him up-to-date with minimal interference. The only trouble with asking Cho would be the potential of dealing with an outwardly blank expression that poorly masked his hurt from Jane. While at the office, Jane wouldn't have the time to get into the conversation they needed to have to clear the air.

The elevator lurched to a stop. Jane slid his hands into his pockets, adapting a nonchalant air before he stepped out of the elevator. As he got closer to the bullpen, his smile waned. No one was around. Before he had a chance to turn to Lisbon's office, he heard her voice shouting his name.

Despite the feeling that something was seriously wrong, Jane dramatically grimaced as he turned to face her. "Good morning to you, too."

"Where have you been?" Lisbon demanded as she strode toward him. She didn't give him the opportunity to answer. "I tried to call you!" Lisbon glared as she held up a familiar cell phone. "Imagine my surprise when I tried calling your cell and hear Van Pelt pick up because it's in the office." When Jane held out his hand, she slapped the phone into his palm.

With a sinking feeling, Jane asked, "What's going on?"

Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest and she jerked her chin in the direction of the elevator. Jane followed when she started back the way he'd come. "You weren't the only one not answering. Cho didn't come in and wasn't picking up his phone. Van Pelt went to check it out with Rigsby. They just called in to request CSU. Cho's missing."

Jane stared at her, fleetingly wishing he could believe this was a cruel joke. Lisbon's dark gaze and tight expression spoke volumes of how serious she was taking this.

"What did they find?" he finally managed to ask past the lump in his throat.

"A message. For you."

\---

 

Jane hadn't said a word since he and Lisbon arrived at the crime scene: Cho's apartment. Jane was thankful no one had attempted to get him to talk. At the moment the only thing keeping the feeling of sickness at bay was the tight clench of his jaw.

> Dear mister Jane,  
> How good it is to see that you remember the past even as you make the appearance of moving on. Unfortunately for you, your indecision between past and present could rob you of any future you and agent Cho might have been planning.

Forensics had let Jane look over the note until he had read and re-read it a half dozen times, though he memorized it by the second reading. He didn't remember who he handed it to before walking to the bedroom. He stood inside the doorway, his tensed muscles the only thing keeping him upright. He stared blankly at the bedroom wall. The signature smiley face was much smaller than usual, but no less foreboding.

The bed was unmade and one of the pillows lay in the middle, slightly indented from where an arm had curled over it. Jane's hands clenched in his pockets as he remembered how he'd recently teased Cho about getting used to an armrest while he slept. Jane had twice caught his lover curling up next to his pillow when it hadn't been clear if Patrick was coming over to stay the night.

"Jane," Lisbon said softly as she came to stand beside him. He didn't remove his gaze from the wall. "We need to sort through some things."

As much as he had grown used to the bloody stain on the wall of his own bedroom, seeing it mirrored here shook Jane to the core.

"Maybe I was trying to keep things separate," Jane murmured to himself.

Lisbon snorted. Jane turned to look down at her. "Jane, you don't compartmentalize well," she told him. "Few people know how to see you, _really see_ you, but you sure as hell come as a one-package deal."

Her assessment was almost amusing enough to make him smile; at least it eased some of the queasiness.

Sobering, Lisbon nodded to the doorway. "Let's talk in the kitchen."

They passed members of the crime scene unit coming through the apartment but had the kitchen to themselves. They sat at the table.

"I know we haven't talked about it before..." Lisbon began, meaning it hadn't been said on record; "You're seeing each other." 

The entire team knew the answer, but Jane didn't care to come up with a sarcastic retort. "Yes." He examined the tabletop and absently scratched a fingernail over a small surface gouge.

"When did you see him last?" Lisbon asked.

Jane hid a sigh of frustration. "At the hospital during the interview yesterday."

She fixed him with a shrewd look. "Any reason you didn't see him later?"

He wanted to snap at her, but Lisbon looked uncomfortable with the personal line of questioning and her honest worry kept his emotions in check. "No," he replied tightly.

He knew she wanted more. Honestly he was surprised she hadn't figured out the significance of yesterday's date between connecting his abrupt departure after Kristina's interview and reading Red John's letter.

Jane pushed his chair back and stood. Ignoring Lisbon's inquisitive frown, Jane reached into the cupboard for the tea kettle. As he was filling it with water, Rigsby came in.

"Boss?"

"Yes?" Lisbon shifted her attention.

Rigsby went over to the table and reported, "They're wrapping up. Anything else you want them to look over?"

"Jane?"

"No," he replied, purposefully focusing his attention on the simple movements of preparing his tea.

"CSU can leave after they finish," Lisbon directed. "I want you and Van Pelt to stick around."

"Got it."

Once Rigsby left, Lisbon stood and moved to lean against the counter next to Jane. "You okay?"

He gave her a blank look, knowing it would tell her more than an exasperated response. Lisbon sighed in defeat.

Jane listened to the quiet stir of heating water. Steam started to trail up from the spout and he turned back to the cupboard where his tea things were kept. Moving aside the tins in front, he searched for something bitter to fit his mood. It took a moment to realize there was a new tin at his fingertips. Patrick pulled down the small tin, only about four inches tall and two inches in width and length. The kettle started whistling but he ignored it as he stared at the red tin.

"Jane?" Lisbon turned off the stove and removed the kettle.

Swallowing past the knot in his throat, Jane pried off the tight-fitting cover and tilted the tin to peer inside. Carefully he tipped the contents onto the counter and fingered the familiar watch. 

"Jane," Lisbon insisted, her hand landing on his shoulder.

"A gift," he explained shortly. For a moment he was surprised by the hoarseness of his voice. _An anniversary gift._ Something he had never expected to give again. He'd startled himself when he'd given into the impulse but knew it had been the right decision when Cho stared at him in genuine surprise and a flicker of deeper longing.

He turned his attention to the folded piece of paper. Jane compulsively smoothed the paper against the countertop, distracted by his struggle to retain emotional control. When he could focus, he read aloud:

_"What do you see in him? You were such a poor family man but fit the all-American standard so well. What do your colleagues think of this? What will they think of you now that you've condemned one of their own?_

_"I wonder what you would prefer: an encore of the sacrifice for your continued deception or the return of your lover, broken._

_"Happy anniversary, Patrick."_

Jane felt chilled to the bone and overwhelmed by a sense of hollowness. He couldn't think, his mind frozen on the threat and memories of blood, tacky to the touch because he had been late getting home _again_.

"...me? Jane... _Patrick_!" Lisbon's voice startled him and her touch on his arm felt painfully hot to his clammy body. "Damn it. If you're going into shock, I'm calling an ambulance," she threatened. He shook his head but didn't speak. "Come on, sit down."

With a firm but gentle hand on his elbow, Lisbon guided him to the table. Jane sat and dropped his head into his hands, digging his palms against his closed eyelids as he listened to her prepare his tea. 

Oh god, what was that bastard going to do?

The teacup clinked against the table at the same time that two pairs of footsteps entered the kitchen. Jane listened to the pause of the lighter set of steps and imagined Van Pelt poised on the threshold, unsure of her place.

"Sit down," Lisbon said, tone strained but still calm.

Three chairs pulled into place, but Jane still wasn't ready to look up. He knew he must be the center of their stares, he never, _never_ got like this. Once or twice Lisbon had seen him exhausted and at the end of his rope, but that was in the shadows, in private. The closest he'd come to breaking down in the team's presence had been immediately after Kristina's kidnapping and his first encounter with Red John.

_What will they think of you now that you've condemned one of their own?_

A tight knot of burning hot anger built in his chest, fueled all the more by pain and growing dread.

"We'll figure this out," Van Pelt said, voice forcefully light.

Jane wanted to laugh but knew the sound would be brittle and harsh, sharp enough to cut through her natural optimism. He knew that despite how much he wanted her to recognize reality, he couldn't let himself destroy more than he already had.

Finally he gathered himself together and straightened up. His eyes didn't sting and he no longer felt frozen, though numbness tingled in his fingers and toes. He settled on a blank expression and crossed one leg over the other as he reached for his tea. Three gazes dropped to the table as he turned his stare to his colleagues. Lisbon glanced at him again when he placed the cup down a little too hard.

"Where do we go from here?" Rigsby asked, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

Lisbon glanced over Jane's shoulder toward the counter. With a reluctant frown she stood and retrieved the second letter. Jane reached for his tea again and sipped it slowly, drawing out the time before he had to set aside an empty cup. He watched the others read the letter and take in the harsh words; studied the discomfort and rising anger on Rigsby's expression; noted Van Pelt's anxiety. He wondered what specifically they reacted to — Cho's disappearance? Red John? The bitter elements of truth wrapped in a sociopath's cruel words?

"We'll see what the lab has to say," Lisbon said after a few minutes of silence.

Van Pelt's lips tightened in frustration. "Don't we have any idea where to start looking?"

Rigsby leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed and glared heavily at the table. Jane could practically feel the tension radiating from the other man and instinctively knew that Rigsby was struggling to avoid directing his anger at Jane.

"Where?" Lisbon asked wearily, her voice momentarily giving away how helpless she felt. "Kristina didn't give me much to work with in the second interview."

"We have to do something," Van Pelt trailed off to a whisper as she hunched in on herself.

Rigsby bit out, "Any ideas, Jane?"

The barely restrained hostility allowed Jane to slip into familiar character. A wall slammed into place and numbness padded the distance between himself and the others at the table. A sense of detachment made it easier to present a calm exterior, as if he was not personally involved.

"Abduction doesn't fit within Red John's standard pattern of behavior."

Van Pelt began, "Ms. Frye--"

" _Went_ with him," Jane cut in. His fingers curled into fists and he had to take a moment to contain a surge of anger. "We need to talk to her again, but I don't think we can trust her. She's as likely as Red John to leave us a misleading clue." The incredulous stares he gained in response to his detached tone echoed a feeling of shock buried within his barriers of numbness.

Rigsby's jaw clenched visibly and he looked primed for a fight. Jane lifted his chin slightly, a silent dare. For a moment it even seemed like Rigsby might take the bait. He looked away sharply and took a noisy breath through his nose. "Asshole," he muttered.

"We're going to look everything over thoroughly," Lisbon finally said. "We all need to calm down and get our heads in the game to figure this out." She added in a quiet tone, "Cho's counting on us."

\---


	7. Chapter 7

\---

Cho woke up slowly, first becoming aware of a vague tingling in his hands and a strange taste in his mouth. He attempted to move, assuming he'd fallen asleep in an awkward position that had caused the pins and needles feeling in his hands. His movement was hindered, however, and he realize that his wrists were tightly bound together behind his back. He breathed in sharply in surprise and quickly assessed the rest of his situation.

His legs were similarly bound at the ankles and he was barefoot; still in his pajamas. He last remembered trying to fall asleep without Jane's company. 

He blinked his eyes multiple times but something was securely wrapped around the top half of his head. His nose and mouth were free, but no light shone through any gaps. The air held a faint odor of mildew. He didn't hear much for a long while, then became aware of a humming nose that seemed to be muffled by at least one wall separating him from its source.

Cho worked himself onto his back, grimacing as he jarred his fingers by hitting them against the concrete floor. He suspected a basement, the sound likely being a dehumidifier. He bent his legs and managed to scoot himself along the floor. He had barely moved a foot when he bumped his head against a wall. Shifting around again, he accidentally slammed his toes against the wall. He grit his teeth against a curse.

He pushed off again, this time managing about five feet before bumping a wall. He was in a small room, unless it was longer than its width. He was hesitant to keep blindly scooting around when he didn't know where the door was. It was doubtful that he would manage to get up and open it and more likely that when his captor came in, Cho would be hit with the door's edge. 

He rolled onto his side again, appreciating the cool air against his hands, which burned faintly from the scrapes that his movement had caused. None of the scooting around had dislodged the material covering his eyes, though, so he was left with limited senses. He hated not knowing the details of his surroundings; he was unable to prepare for whatever might be coming. The white noise hum from the other room was irritating. He wondered how Jane had handled his temporary bout of blindness. Granted, Jane had been free to move around and crack jokes about the ordeal.

Cho flexed his fingers and toes, checking that his circulation was okay. The bonds were tight, he wasn't going to be able to escape unaided, but the blood flow was still okay. He had a pounding headache, a matter that had not improved by the jostling around during his exploration. 

He shrugged his shoulders as best he could in attempt to relieve some of the ache he felt. He must have been out of it for some time and tied up this way for a while. His body was suffering from the prolonged position.

He tried to occupy his mind with reviewing the little elements he could pick up from his situation. He worked on remembering anything helpful from the night before. He had locked his door as usual, and he had done nothing different than the past few nights. The only difference was that Patrick had not been there with him. 

Cho swallowed uneasily. It didn't take a genius leap of the imagination to guess who had taken him, even if he didn't know where. Kristina's biting accusation replayed in his mind unbidden:

_You will only hurt him!_

It was pretty impressive that he was still alive, actually. Cho felt his lips twist in a grim smile. Red John had only allowed Rosalind Harker to live, and whatever he had done to Kristina... Well, Cho thought he would be in a different category. Given what Red John did to the victims he killed, Cho really didn't look forward to finding out what the maniac wanted to do with a live CBI agent and the lover of his obsession.

Cho tilted his cheek against the concrete, aware that he had started sweating, a reaction to his nerves rather than the temperature that didn't seem to have changed. As he lay there, waiting, he realized that his first three fingers in particular hurt like hell. He managed to work his position so that he could rub the stinging fingertips against his thumb. He hissed in pain when fresh, still soft scabs braced against his skin. Wetness flowed onto his hand and he quickly pressed down to stop the bleeding. 

The hum of the dehumidifier cut off with an abrupt shudder and his ears seemed to ring with its absence. Cho moved again, turning partially on his stomach so that he wasn't restricting the circulation through his shoulder. The hard press of the floor bit into his hip and knees, but it was more bearable than trying to support himself on his shoulder or elbow.

He had been unable to discover anything useful and he was laying on the ground in some unknown place dressed only in his sweats and an old t-shirt that he wore to bed. He had a killer headache that was growing stronger the longer he was awake. He must have been drugged before the abduction or he would have tried to fight; and crazy or not, Red John was still one man and would have had a hard time contending with a struggling agent. It was little comfort to make the realization.

Cho wondered what time it was, if his team had discovered his absence and were working to find him. If they were, he wondered if there was any trail to follow. He could do nothing but wait.

Cho felt himself drifting between dozing and consciousness. His head still ached and his mouth felt overly dry. As much as he tried to be on alert, he didn't have the energy to keep up with that stress. 

As he drifted in and out, he began to remember a little more. He recalled startling awake from a disturbing dream where Jane stood at the bedroom window and was just staring at him, expression blank and eyes cool. There had been blood stains — dark, almost black in the moonlight — on his suit jacket, but his hands were clean. When Cho had tried to speak, he found he couldn't and when he raised a hand to his throat, he had felt blood and the rough edges of flesh and muscle.

The specter of the dream woke Cho again and he shuddered against the cool floor, breathing hard. He tried to press back the nightmare and realized that when he had woken in his bed, he'd turned to assure himself Jane was not in the room. There _had_ been someone there, though, shadowed and seemingly shrouded head to toe. Before Cho could react to the realization that the figure was real and not part of a continued dream, he had felt a sharp sting in his thigh. Fuzzily he was able to identify the prick of a needle before he fell unconscious.

That told him little, although it confirmed that he had been drugged and somehow Red John had managed to get into his apartment. Cho wondered grimly if he would have been attacked if Jane had been there.

 _Red John was probably counting on that,_ he realized. Of course Red John would be aware of the date's significance and could predict how Jane would react. _Jane probably does this yearly._ Some things may have changed in the past year, but other things wouldn't at this point.

Cho shifted against the floor and grimaced at the new aches in his body from pressing against the unforgiving concrete. He had to wonder about the timing of all of this. Kristina's return-slash-"rescue" coming the day before a date of significance for Jane and then the kidnapping of Jane's lover...?

The fucker had probably left a card cruelly wishing Jane a "happy anniversary." Sick bastard.

Cho forced himself to roll over, momentarily lying on his stomach before twisting onto his other side. No position was comfortable but he would prefer to keep himself from getting too stiff and prevent his limbs from falling asleep.

After he settled into the new position he listened intently. The dehumidifier remained off and the air retained its smell of mildew.

Overhead he heard something creak. Automatically he turned his head as if he could look up. Not being able to see, he tried to envision his surroundings. The loudness of the creak above him suggested exposed boards, so the ceiling hadn't been finished. He waited for other noises. A few moments later he heard additional creaking and, more clearly, footsteps. They faded out, moving away from the position above him, but he remained tense and at attention. It was the first movement he had heard and Cho doubted that was coincidence.

He wasn't sure exactly how many minutes passed, but his muscles started to grow tired again from being held tense. He heard the distinctive sound of a lock turning over and identified the door as being behind him. Cho scrambled to roll over. 

He was on his stomach when the door opened, and he listened as the person stepped into the room. Cho kept his breathing calm through force of will as he lay there, his head blindly turned towards the entrance. He waited, unnerved by the lack of other movement. He had the unpleasant sense that he was being studied.

"How's the headache, Agent Cho?"

The voice was strangely muffled as if something covered his mouth. Cho remembered Jane's description of Red John and how the man had been wearing a mask; strange that he would continue to wear one when he had made sure that Cho was blindfolded.

Red John walked further into the room and Cho turned away, onto his side and pulled his knees up closer to his belly as he heard Red John approach. He heard more movement and then a gloved hand fell on his bare arm. The hand was firm and as Cho tried to shrug it away, the man tightened his grip.

"You shouldn't struggle so much, I promise you're not going anywhere." Red John's other hand lightly slapped Cho's cheek. "I think you need some time to think about what you're dealing with. I hope you took the time to thank Miss Frye when you saw her." Red John's hands lifted away for a moment before returning with something long and rubbery. Cho wasn't sure what it was until Red John began tying the tourniquet over his upper arm.

Cho rolled sharply the opposite way, trying to wretch out of Red John's grip. For his trouble he felt a hand grip his throat and slam his head against the floor. Red sparks danced across the darkness before his eyes and Cho laid there, stunned and unable to try pulling away again. A cold needle pressed against his skin and then slid in, he barely felt the sting as his attention focused on his throbbing head. A moment later he felt the injection flow under his skin like a cold ribbon. He waited for the chilling effects to dissipate, but he could still feel it as it ran down his arm and along his chest. The strange chill traveled quickly through his system as he shivered in response.

Red John slapped his cheek again but it was more of a pat this time. Cho bit the inside of his cheek to hide his grimace of pain. The aches that had been dull until now suddenly intensified with the strange sensation running though his system. He grit his teeth, biting hard enough that he managed to break skin and a thin trickle of blood trailed over his tongue.

Red John lifted Cho into a seated position and the movement made Cho nauseous. His senses felt like they were going haywire. His aches bore pain down to the bones and his ears buzzed with ambient noise and the sound of Red John's movement. Their breathing seemed overly loud and Cho could smell the mildew now mixed with a supposedly scentless laundry detergent. And the decay of leaves? A strange, almost garden store smell.

His thoughts were cut off by a sudden surge of nausea as Red John jostled him forward. Cho's arms were lifted away from his back and the stretch of already aching muscles made it difficult to hold back a groan of pain. A few moments later his arms were free and fell limply at his sides. Cho stifled a sigh at the momentary relief. Then Red John pulled his arms forward and rebound his arms, roughly wrapping the rope around Cho's wrists and knotting it with little give.

Another sharp wave of nausea came as Red John lifted Cho with his shoulder to Cho's stomach. The combination of pressure on his gut and head going upside down just about wiped him out.

They didn't move far and Red John bent a bit to set him upright on unstable, bound feet. Their bodies pressed together along the torso, Cho's face smashed against Red John's shoulder. 

Cho's arms were yanked up and he felt a tug at his wrists even as Red John stepped away. Cho swayed forward, abruptly stopped a moment later as his arms caught his weight.

He heard Red John move farther back, then the sound of a chain clunking against wood and Cho was forced onto the balls of his feet. His body fell forward a little more and the ache of his shoulders turned into a sensation of fire that blazed down his arms and chest. He fought to keep his chin up. Even blind he refused to hang his head, he refused to give into the gesture of submission. He kept his head up, hoping he was fixing his attention approximately at the right spot. At the moment his hearing seemed sharp enough to be accurate in his guess.

"That injection should help you with any numbness you might have started to feel," Red John commented; and yes, his voice was coming from in front of Cho. "Strong effect, isn't it? It makes sure you can't block me out." He moved closer and his hand closed around Cho's chin. "Have you ever been in this position, agent?" he asked. 

Cho didn't answer and refused to flinch at the bruising grip on his chin. Red John shook him hard and Cho barely managed to hold back another grunt of pain at the sharp movement. His arms, specifically his shoulders, were forced to take the brunt of his weight and the awkward angle made him worry about possible ligament tearing. He had dislocated a shoulder once, years ago, and he didn't look forward to the possibility of doing that again. 

"Do you wonder how your team is doing? And Mr. Jane? It wasn't very smart of him to leave you all alone." Red John squeezed one last time before letting go of Cho's chin. "I hope you understand why you are here." He moved away and Cho tried to track the sounds of Red John's movement over the pounding of his pulse. "You see, agent Cho, Patrick is not free to do as he pleases. His life is in my hands. A pact, if you will — his wife and child for his life."

Cho felt the burn of anger spark in reaction to the disdainful tone. He tightened his jaw against a retort at the ravings of a madman. 

"Would he choose to sacrifice your life as well? He's quite driven, you know. Give him an opportunity to pursue me, even the slightest potential of hope, and he flies into the fray." Cho remained silent. "You don't have to say anything right now, agent. I assure you, we have plenty of time.

"He's mine," John said, his voice sounding the most dangerous it had during his entire visit. The door slammed close.

Cho hung his head and tried to get better purchase on his feet.

\---

 

Jane could feel Van Pelt's critical stare switching between himself and Lisbon. Mostly he tried to ignore it, irritated by her silent musings, knowing that she questioned the wisdom of letting him go back in to see Kristina. She knew why he had to be a participant, which was why she didn't actually say anything. Not that it stopped her from turning worried gazes on him.

Lisbon again cleared the way past the guards; their presence had been doubled since yesterday's failed attempts at a helpful interview.

When they got through the door, Jane didn't bother with playing the patient investigator and strode straight to Kristina's bedside. She was already sitting up, hands in her lap and her hair pulled back in a familiar bun. She looked like all she was missing was her mystical-looking jewelry and shawl to round out her part. 

"Patrick, Agents," she greeted, expression calm.

"Where is he?" Jane asked, tone flat.

She lifted her eyes to his and tilted her head. "I do not know."

"I'm sure you have more to tell us than that," he admonished.

Van Pelt came up beside him and he felt her hand hover near his arm for a moment before it withdrew. "Ms. Frye," Van Pelt began, voice gentle, "we really need to get the details of anything you can remember about where you've been recently. We have an important case that's time sensitive."

"You're missing an agent," Kristina stated, looking calmly at Van Pelt. "Are you so surprised?" She looked up at Patrick and smiled grimly at whatever she saw in his expression. "No, no you aren't. Yesterday was important, wasn't it, Patrick?"

Jane cocked his head and returned her gaze with a cool stare. "I'm sure you'll tell me."

Kristina nodded once in acknowledgment before turning her attention to Van Pelt and, behind her, Rigsby and Lisbon. "Yesterday would be the... seventh year after the deaths of Mrs. and young Miss Jane."

Van Pelt did a poor job of covering her gasp of surprise. Behind him, Jane heard Rigsby shift uncomfortably and Lisbon moving forward.

"So you see, it really shouldn't be a surprise that agent Cho would go missing on such a day," Kristina said, her gaze swinging back to Jane. "This is what I mean, Patrick. You should have _sensed_ it. If you would—"

"Don't turn this on me," he snapped. His hands fisted and he knew that he had tenuous control of the anger threatening to surface. "Did you have something to do with this?"

Lisbon appeared at his shoulder and he glanced her way briefly, catching sight of her deadly serious expression. It seemed the possibility had occurred to her as well.

Kristina's eyes widened and she held up a hand. "No! I could not condone such an act."

"Yet you found it perfectly reasonable to focus Red John's attentions on Cho," Lisbon said sarcastically, her eyes flashing in anger.

"I _told_ you," Kristina insisted, a desperate look lighting her eyes, "I had to establish some form of trust. I had to give him something he didn't know about."

"What did you think he would do with the information?" Jane asked harshly, incredulous. 

Still wide-eyed, Kristina said, "I-I knew he would have to verify the information..."

Lisbon let out a noisy huff of air. "You didn't _think_ , Kristina. You've endangered my team. Help us get Cho back and stop stalling."

Jane stared hard at the woman as she slowly slumped back against the raised bed. Kristina looked confused by the conversation where only minutes ago she had stood stridently with her conviction that she had done right. The swift turn around was possible, but Jane wasn't in a particularly trusting mood.

"I don't believe my recollections will be much help." Kristina explained, "We traveled when I was with him. John is very intelligent and resourceful. He would probably take Agent Cho someplace I'm unfamiliar with."

"We'd still like whatever you can give us," Lisbon said. She glanced at Jane. "Jane, stay with Van Pelt, find out what you can here. Rigsby and I will head back to the office."

Jane waved an acknowledgment her way and promptly focused on Kristina's visible attempts to pull herself together.

\---


	8. Chapter 8

\---

Lisbon returned to the conference table with a fresh mug of coffee clutched between both hands. She stood behind her chair for a moment, staring blankly at the open files and photographs that offered very little to work with. Rigsby sat across the table, hunched over the laptop as he ran... something. She couldn't remember what he'd muttered before she stood up.

She sat down, gaze still on Rigsby as she took in his tense shoulders and barely hidden scowl. With a sigh, she said, "Don't blame him." Rigsby looked up, eyes widening in surprise. He opened his mouth but before he could protest, Lisbon held up her hand and continued, "I know you're frustrated, we all are, but Jane isn't at fault here."

Rigsby hung his head with a noisy sigh. "Sorry, Boss," he grumbled.

Lisbon waited in silence for a few minutes, sipping her coffee. When Rigsby gave no indication he was going to say anything else, Lisbon tried again. "Wayne, Jane's doing a good job beating himself up, we don't need to help. Put the blame where it's due. We're not letting Red John get away with this."

A pinched expression crossed Rigsby's face and it took Lisbon a few moments to identify the emotions as worry and helplessness. "Boss, Red John..." Rigsby began, tone careful, "he _kills_ his victims." Only two exceptions that they knew of, Rosalind Harker and Kristina Frye.

Lisbon swallowed the lump in her throat. Although she knew it was bitter comfort, if any comfort at all, she said, "Red John won't kill him." _Not right away. We have time._ "That would be... too easy. He wants Jane to hurt, to break." She closed her eyes and shook her head, unable to continue. Rigsby should have gotten her point.

When she had composed herself, Lisbon lifted her gaze to Rigsby and found him with his head turned to stare out the window. She drank from her coffee mug and waited for his response.

Eventually Rigsby turned back to his laptop. Although he didn't meet her gaze, he muttered, "I know." Lisbon was relieved he sounded determined rather than defeated. She drew confidence from that and set back to work with renewed focus.

They worked for another hour, absorbed with each update from the CSU labs no matter how small.

Jane and Van Pelt returned just as Lisbon finished reading the report about the signature smiley face on Cho's bedroom wall. By the look on Van Pelt's face, Lisbon could tell that the two had an argument. Lisbon hid a sigh, hoping it hadn't been bad enough to warrant her interference.

"What have you got?" Lisbon asked as Van Pelt pulled out a chair to sit. They'd been at the hospital for a few hours, so she hoped that was a good sign. 

Jane's expression was hard to read as he came around the table to stand at Lisbon's shoulder. She glanced up at him and noticed his gaze focused on the report in front of her. She explained, "They think Red John cut Cho's fingers to trace the face." She watched for a change of expression, any indication of what Jane might be feeling, but he remained completely blank. "It wasn't really..." she trailed off, the words _that much blood_ dying on her lips. Jane's gaze flickered to her briefly and there was a moment that Lisbon could see him unguarded and the emotions there made her chest ache in sympathy.

"Anything else turn up?" Van Pelt asked hesitantly.

Lisbon turned her attention to Van Pelt and shook her head. Jane wandered out of the bullpen in the direction of the break room. "Let's hear what Kristina had to say."

\---

 

Somehow Cho managed to doze off. It was never for very long and he would jerk awake, reminded immediately that his nightmares were real. His senses no longer seemed to be spiking off the charts, though the smell of mildew was still nauseatingly strong. Whenever he woke, he lifted his head to lean it against his upraised arms. When he fell asleep his head would fall forward to his chest and stretch his neck, adding strain to his already pained muscles.

The doorknob turned and Cho straightened up the best he could as he heard Red John's footsteps enter the room. For an indeterminate amount of time Cho was aware only of his own breathing and the aches and pains of his body. He could hear no movement from Red John, no indication what the man intended during this visit.

The silence dragged on long enough that Cho began to doubt he'd heard the sound of someone entering.

When Red John spoke, his voice came from behind Cho. "Did you know I thought it would be Agent Lisbon who would eventually crack Patrick's barriers?" Cho jerked automatically, his head twisting to the side as if he could look over his shoulder. Red John neared close enough that his arm brushed against Cho's back.

"And then the lovely Miss Frye came along to set the record... straight, if you will." Red John's voice came from a close distance, although it was still slightly muffled and Cho couldn't feel breath. "Did you understand my message, Agent Cho? I left you one of my mics. Excellent equipment."

Red John's hand landed on Cho's hip and gripped tightly. Cho tensed, on edge when he had little to no clue on what would come next. He tried to relax, it was no use straining his muscles when he couldn't get away. 

"I _heard_ you. As you came in, your attempts to calm Patrick." Red John's voice turned mocking, "You could only offer comfort with your body, couldn't you." His other hand dropped onto Cho's shoulder and squeezed. Both hands were gloved in leather and it felt rough against Cho's skin. "I watched you, did you know?"

Red John's voice lowered and he moved his hands inward, fingers closing near Cho's throat, his other hand curving along the edge of Cho's shirt and sleep pants where his skin had bared due to his stretched position. "It was you, taking in anything Patrick needed to get rid of. Do you do that often?"

Cho refused to respond although his pulse raced and he could hear the blood pounding in his ears. He swallowed back a sound of disgust as Red John's lower hand slipped under his shirt and crawled up his chest.

Red John yanked Cho back against his body. His higher hand covered Cho's throat and slowly tightened. "Do you give yourself often, Agent Cho? Does Patrick ever let you take him?" Cho opened his mouth to get a better breath of air as the pressure on his throat continued. Red John shook him harshly and said, "You're no better than a whore. A distraction."

Abruptly Red John let Cho go, removing all contact as he stepped back. Cho gasped in a clear breath of air and shivered, trying to get rid of the feel of unwanted hands on his body. 

He had no sense of where Red John had gone. Since he'd not heard the man earlier, he no longer trusted his senses to let him know where Red John was in comparison to himself.

It was a few minutes before Red John made his presence known again. 

"You're impressive, Agent Cho. Uneasily rattled. I should have expected no less, Patrick has discerning taste." Red John apparently stood in front of him again. Cho said nothing as he straightened up, presenting as calm a front as he could. 

"Did you thank Kristina for her introduction? She's quite interesting. Not nearly as much as Patrick, of course, and she would have been a poor choice for him. Did you know she fancied herself the better suited?" Red John sounded amused by the thought. "She still has delusions of being some mystical conduit. Laughable really, despite her somewhat admirable talents. She claims a connection with Patrick, understanding some other level of himself he has not accessed. She's completely smitten with him.

"If she wanted to, she could help find you." Red John moved close, close enough that smooth plastic that must be his mask brushed against Cho's cheek. "I don't think she'll help, do you?"

Cho felt sick at the thought, but couldn't deny that he agreed. It was doubtful Kristina would put forth any real effort to rescue him — if she actually knew anything. It was possible, perhaps even likely, that Red John was lying and Kristina had nothing of worth. Even if she knew, she may not realize that she did.

"She would love to make Patrick forget about you. She wants him for herself, thinks that she can settle the differences between he and I and then take him for her own. Kindred spirits or some nonsense." Red John's hand returned, clenching Cho's shirt and yanking hard. "He is no one else's. You can't have him any longer and she will never have him."

It was almost boring to listen to the possessive repetition. Despite his pain and very real fear about his perilous situation, Cho also felt irritated by the ridiculous monologue. Obsessive, that had been obvious enough, but this bordered on ludicrous. He was half tempted to cut into the rant to roll his eyes, he could probably get away with it with half his face covered. 

Cho was still being held by his shirt when he felt cool, flat metal rest against his stomach. He sucked in a breath automatically, his stomach pulling away from the blade. Red John chuckled lowly and then Cho heard the tear of fabric and the grip on his shirt seemed to have less effect.

In short order Cho's shirt had been removed. The thin blade returned to rest with its flat side against his belly. Cho focused on his breathing and keeping it even. Red John stood that way, not moving an inch. About the time that Cho began worrying about swaying forward in reaction to staying rigid for so long, the blade moved away from his skin and his pants were cut away.

Cho's fingers clenched above his head as he was fully exposed to the chill air. He had to fight hard to suppress his shudder of discomfort and he swallowed against the growing knot of unease. Again he was left with no sense of Red John's position. The man was silent and had withdrawn all touch. Cho waited, not know what would be worse — the brush of leather gloves touching him again or a blade cutting through his skin.

He waited.

And waited.

\---

 

Jane watched from lowered eyelids as Madeline Hightower walked down the hall, her poise just slightly off, not nearly at her normal confidence. Jane knew the others weren't likely to notice the director's worry.

Hightower slowed her pace when she entered the bullpen. She folded her arms across her chest and cast a look around the room. Her gaze rested a little longer at Jane; she probably guessed he was awake despite his closed eyes and outwardly relaxed pose on the couch.

"I doubt it would do me any good to order you home," she commented dryly.

Van Pelt and Rigsby exchanged a look before glancing at Lisbon, who stood up from the conference table. "The first forty-eight—"

"I'm well aware, Agent Lisbon," Hightower cut in. She sighed and gave the group another evaluating look. "I suggest you get some rest tonight. We don't need any mistakes." With that, she headed to the doorway. "Good night," she said as she exited.

Jane opened his eyes and lifted his arm to look at his watch. It was well past the time Hightower usually left. He wasn't sure what she was doing in regards to the case but he doubted she'd stayed late just to avoid her family; he got the impression she was content with her home life.

Lisbon crossed the office and perched on the edge of Cho's desk. Her attention fixed on Jane and she crossed her arms. "When do you think he'll try contacting you?" she asked quietly.

Jane shrugged, honestly unsure when to expect the call or note or communiqué, whatever it may be. That Red John _would_ make contact, he had no doubt. Cho had been taken for a reason; if Red John wanted Cho dead, he would have done so immediately and left the body for Jane to find. 

Not that it meant Red John wouldn't kill Cho (and god, Jane hated to think that), but Red John would draw out the pain he would be able to inflict upon Jane.

"We're getting him back," Lisbon said with conviction.

Jane nodded absently without meeting her concerned stare. They had to, there was no acceptable alternative.

\---


	9. Chapter 9

\---

It took substantial effort for Cho to rouse himself at the sound of the opening door. His focus clung to how cold his arms felt and how dry his mouth was. He struggled to wake up a little more, wondering all the while if his attempts to come to full awareness would actually help predict Red John's location.

The touch when it came was wholly unexpected. A gloved hand curled around Cho's hip from the front and fingertips dug into the skin of his low back. The grip anchored Cho, holding him in place as a cool metal edge trailed along his collar bone.

"How does it feel?" Red John whispered, and Cho felt the man's breath against his neck. No mask this time. "Do you enjoy his touch?" Red John moved the blade along without enough pressure to mark. The blade traced a line from the hollow of Cho's throat to his navel. Cho refused to respond although the taunts made him apprehensive. Reflexively he sucked in a breath in attempt to move the sensitive skin of his belly away from the blade. Red John tightened his grip but made no verbal comment. The blade trailed away from Cho's navel, disappearing completely for a few moments. 

Abruptly Red John shoved Cho from his grasp and stepped away. Cho gasped in pain as his arms bore his full weight with his stumble off balance. His entire upper torso felt on fire from the sudden upset of his position. Cho regained his tenuous footing and had to concentrate on reducing his body's reaction to the pain. He fought off the wave of nausea and focused on steadying breaths.

Slowly he settled back into a vaguely numb state and turned his attention to searching for clues as to where Red John had moved. Although it was a possibility that Red John had left while Cho sorted through his pain, he doubted that was the case. Red John had a purpose, made particularly clear with the changes this visit: no mask and a knife of some sort. Cho was completely vulnerable and Red John had targeted him specifically. Cho had every right to be scared. He mentally clamped down on the urge to panic.

Red John's breath against his hip startled Cho so badly that he didn't think to struggle until it became impossible to do so. Red John tugged Cho off balance so that the agent's arms bore his full weight as Red John gripped one of Cho's legs behind the knee.

"Has Patrick ever allowed you to claim him?" Red John's voice was strangely light, although a certain tightness belied the casual tone. Cho felt the blade press hard against his thigh. It slid in smoothly and Red John guided it along slowly, carving a downward arc. "He's not yours to claim."

Red John jerked the blade away with a rough twist. Cho grit his teeth against the acute sting of the fresh cut. The blade returned to slice into the top of the first cut before Red John dragged it through Cho's skin in a mirrored arc to the first. "You had my warning, Agent Cho. I told you I found out about you. If you'd had any sense of self preservation, you would have withdrawn." The blade pulled out again and Cho felt Red John adjusting his grip. "Does that make you dedicated or a fool?" Red John asked, suddenly sounding amused. The blade dug in twice more for short, horizontal cuts.

"Either way, you now understand your position, right?" Red John tapped the tip of the blade against Cho's inner thigh. "Isn't that right?" Red John repeated, voice growing harsh as once again the blade bit into Cho's flesh and cut a horizontal curve.

Red John stood, dragging his empty hand over the fresh cuts as he did so. Red John wiped the flat of the blade against Cho's cheeks in slow strokes. His other hand gripped Cho's hip, cupped his ass, lay flat against Cho's sternum. Red John's hand returned to the cuts, pressing hard enough that Cho could feel the skin around each part to well more blood. Red John's hand wandered again, closing around Cho's shoulder, cupping the back of his neck, raking gloved fingers over Cho's chest. Cho clenched his jaw tightly as he endured the aberrant mockery of caresses.

The first tug at his genitals made Cho gag in disgust. Gloved hand damp with Cho's blood, Red John roughly fondled Cho's penis and balls. Red John's hand slid between Cho's legs and he dug his fingertips into the flesh of Cho's inner thigh. Red John's breath was hot and anger-ragged against Cho's ear; "I'll make you scream when he can hear you."

Then Red John withdrew completely, the phantom touches replaying across Cho's skin as the door closed.

\---

 

Lisbon watched from the corner of her eye as Van Pelt once again picked up her fork to idly poke at her salad. She had taken a total of two bites before re-immersing herself in her computer search. Lisbon hadn't done any better with her own lunch, which she eventually gave up as a lost cause. Jane hadn't even bothered with ordering. Rigsby was the only one whose appetite was unaffected.

During another of Lisbon's visual sweeps around the office, she caught sight of Hightower striding down the hallway, her steps purposeful but unhurried. When she caught Lisbon's gaze, Hightower nodded in a way that included the entire team. 

Lisbon straightened up in her chair and called the group together. Rigsby and Jane moved to join her at the conference table immediately while Van Pelt seemed to struggle with removing herself from the computer. Even as she stood, Van Pelt continued to watch the screen and used the mouse for another few seconds. 

Hightower stood at the head of the conference table. "Kristina Frye is cleared to go home. From what I understand, she has been rather insistent about leaving the hospital."

Van Pelt bit her lip briefly in a look of worry. "We're not letting her go home alone, are we?"

Hightower pursed her lips and Lisbon caught a flash of irritation in her boss's eyes, though she doubted it was aimed at Van Pelt. "Although it appears she has lost Red John's interest, I've approved for two agents to provide guard."

"She slipped away from more than that last time," Jane reminded.

Hightower crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow, yet Lisbon got the sense that she wasn't surprised by the thought. "You think she's working with Red John."

Jane's gaze was hard even though he cocked his head casually as Lisbon had seen him do many times before. "I think she bears watching."

"Volunteering, Mr. Jane? I admit that I spoke with Ms. Frye and she did her best to convince me that I should insist you accompany her."

Lisbon shot a sharp glance at Jane and was a little surprised when he met her gaze. They stared at one another for a moment and Lisbon thought back to Hardy and felt a chill crawl up her spine. 

"I have time for a brief visit," Jane agreed, looking back at Hightower. He stood and smoothed the edges of his jacket. He brushed at one sleeve, picking off some invisible lint. 

Lisbon slowly stood as well, catching Hightower's steady gaze. Lisbon realized then that the three of them were wondering the same thing, wary that this was somehow a setup. Lisbon glanced at the other members of her team but they looked on in a combination of confusion and worry, like they could sense an underlying conversation was going on but didn't understand it. That was alright for now, Lisbon needed them to stay on their own tasks.

Aloud, she said, "I want to meet with the agents who're going with."

Hightower inclined her head in agreement. "By all means. I've called them for a briefing in fifteen minutes, if you'll join me."

Lisbon felt Jane's gaze on her as she nodded.

\---

 

Kristina summarily dismissed the agents at the front door. McIntyre's eyebrow twitched but otherwise he didn't react. Henley looked indignant and turned away with a disdainful sniff. McIntyre met Jane's gaze and briefly explained they would be patrolling outside. Kristina did a mediocre job of looking uninterested.

When the agents had departed, she made a sweeping gesture in the direction of the kitchen. "Tea?" she invited.

Jane inclined his head in polite agreement before following.

"Do you suppose I'll be allowed to go to the store on my own?" Kristina mused aloud. She cast a small smile over her shoulder. "It would be a little strange to be walking down the grocery aisles with gentlemen in suits shadowing my moves."

"They're here for your protection," Jane reminded. He leaned against the island counter as Kristina went to the kitchen cupboards.

"Would you care for strangers to invade your privacy and home?" Kristina pulled out a kettle and filled it with water. She set it on the stove and turned it on before seeking Patrick's gaze.

"No, but our situations are different, don't you agree?"

Kristina's smiled serenely. "You believe so? Neither of us needs the protection."

Jane watched silently as Kristina turned away and moved to a door that presumably led to a pantry. She reached in to click on a light and disappeared inside. As Jane listened to her moving things around on shelves, he reflected that a better wording would have been _Neither of us_ wants _the protection..._ At least in his case.

Kristina emerged from the pantry with several small tins balanced between her arm and chest. She flipped off the light on her way out but left the door open. She set the tins on the counter and arranged them so that the handwritten labels faced Jane.

Jane feigned focus on the choices as he said, "I agree I don't _want_ protection, but I'm not foolish enough to believe I'd be safe."

The kettle began whistling and Kristina turned off the burner. She shook her head sadly and with a sigh turned to open a cupboard filled with glasses and mugs. 

Her back was still to him when she responded, "I wish you believed me, Patrick. But..." Kristina turned around, a mug in each hand. Her smile was stilted. "I have come to understand you will not listen to me."

Jane distinctly felt like something unpleasant was crawling over his skin. He could feel the hair on his nape standing up with the instinctive sense of danger. There was something dangerous in Kristina's expression that set off warning alarms in Jane's head.

"Patrick hasn't had the pleasure of my company as you have, Miss Frye."

Surprised, Jane jerked in the direction of the familiar voice. In the pantry doorway Red John stood, dressed fully from head to toe in black and wearing the clear plastic mask he had worn when Jane first saw him. Red John cocked his head and although the plastic protuberances distorted Red John's gaze, Jane felt the weight of his stare.


	10. Chapter 10

-

"You don't look well, Patrick." Red John raised a hand and gestured sharply at Kristina. "Tea?" he prompted.

Jane watched from the corner of his eye as Kristina easily followed the command. She set the mugs on the counter and reached for the tea tins. She hesitated, hand still in the air as she looked at Jane. "You didn't say what you wanted."

Jane had to swallow before he could speak. Even then his voice came out as little more than a whisper, "It doesn't matter."

Kristina looked at Red John, then back at Jane, and finally shrugged to herself as she chose a tin.

Jane's attention sharpened fully on Red John as the man stepped from the doorway. He took up position on the far side of the counter so that he and Jane faced each other across the length of the island. "As I was saying, you don't look well. I suppose I have something to do with that." 

Jane's hands clenched tightly into fists against the counter-top. He felt paralyzed, struck silent from his inability to determine how to react.

"Have you slept since you got my message?" Red John asked. He tilted his head inquisitively. 

"You have me now," Jane forced himself to say it calmly. He pulled upon inner resources and portrayed a sense of casualness. He played up the unconcerned, distant role. He waved a hand, a little too stiff to look truly casual. 

Red John's shoulders bounced and it took a moment for Jane to hear the low chuckling. "Patrick, I wonder what you would do if we were truly alone. Do you want to kill me?"

The answer was immediate and automatic. "Yes." Jane belatedly realized he said the word aloud. 

Kristina interrupted by setting a mug down in front of Jane. He hadn't realized she'd moved so close until she was nearly pressed against his side to offer the tea. He spared her a brief, irritated glare before once again focusing on Red John. Kristina frowned at him in disapproval but Jane couldn't care less what she thought. She had set him up; not entirely unexpected, but Red John waiting at her house hadn't registered on the list of possibilities.

"John," Kristina said, her voice chiding, "we discussed this." She leaned into Jane for a few long moments, her breasts caressing his arm and her breath brushing his skin. She withdrew when he tensed in reaction. She took the second mug of tea around the island and stopped only a foot away from Red John before she offered the mug. "That mask is dreadful," she chided, huffing a breath of frustration.

Jane found himself at a loss to understand her reasoning. Even if she had seen his face before, Red John wouldn't reveal himself to Jane until he had absolute guarantee Jane could not escape. There were too many variables in the current situation. Red John was anything but stupid.

Red John seemed satisfied to ignore Kristina for the time being. Instead of replying, he reached into his sweatshirt pocket and withdrew something that flashed silver in his grip. Jane didn't identify it until the scalpel was tossed down the counter-top. It slid almost all the way across, spinning to a stop just inches from Jane's hands. 

Jane stared at it blankly; it took a moment for his mind to process what he saw. Dried blood covered both blade and handle. Jane felt his stomach roll over in dread. It took no guesswork to realize whose blood it was.

Kristina gasped quietly and by the time Jane managed to drag his gaze back up, he noticed that she had paled and honest surprise widened her eyes. She stared at the blade for long moments before turning an anxious look on Red John.

Red John kept staring at Jane, blank mask and casual stance giving very little away besides his confidence. 

Jane stared silently, jaw clenched in a mix of anger and fear. He could feel the muscles in his forearms twitch and he swallowed convulsively.

"Oh don't worry, Patrick. Agent Cho isn't dead." He nodded at the scalpel. "Care to make an attempt on my life?"

When Jane didn't respond, Red John shrugged. "But if you do that, you'll have difficulty finding Agent Cho. Let's see, ignoring any other possible factors, how long does it take for a person to die of dehydration? Three days?"

Jane could feel his body thrum with the heavy beat of the blood pumping through his veins. He glared at Kristina.

She caught his look and held up her hands in supplication. "I really don't know where Agent Cho is," she swore. "Everything should be fine. Everything _will_ be fine." She sounded desperate.

"Don't." Jane had to struggle to grit out even that much. 

Red John stepped around the edge of the counter to stand next to Kristina. He placed an arm around her shoulders. To Jane he said, "Convenient, isn't it, how the so-called psychics fail so spectacularly when it comes to the 'important' things?"

Kristina visibly bristled and she tried to turn toward Red John. Jane saw the grip tighten and understood in an instant that the situation was about to fall apart. He felt his mouth open — to what? yell a warning? Kristina's expression, while confused, quickly morphed into dumbfounded horror; something in her finally recognized the danger she was in. Jane's gaze caught on the appearance of a knife in Red John's free hand. The sight of the knife freed Jane from his previous paralysis and he shoved away from the counter with a shout. He'd barely cleared the island's corner when the blade dug into Kristina's neck beneath one ear.

Jane had seen the aftermath of many different types of murders. He had been present at shootings, had even shot someone once in automatic response to Lisbon's life being in danger. But he had never fully understood what it took to cut someone's throat. He watched as Kristina's mouth opened in a choked attempt to scream; he saw the sharp, ungraceful movement of Red John pulling the knife across her throat. The rough edges of flesh were instantly covered in blood. By the final yank of the blade, there was no doubt that Kristina would be dead by the time she hit the floor.

Numb with shock, Jane was only distantly aware of the front door banging open and several feet pounding across the hardwood floors. Jane stared at Red John as the man released Kristina's body and let her drop to the floor. It wasn't until he focused enough to recognize the arterial spray streaking Red John's mask that Jane realized he could feel Kristina's blood slowly dripping down his own face and neck.

"Jane! Jesus Christ!" Lisbon's shout drew Jane closer to present reality, but he still felt disconnected. Jane heard curses, some muffled more than others, from the rest of the agents with Lisbon as they took in the scene.

He continued to stare at Red John, who had backed up a few steps to stand in front of the pantry. He raised the knife and his stance warned of attack if anyone drew too close.

"I wondered if you would really be convinced to come in alone. Or were you followed?" Red John made it sound like it made no difference whichever the case.

Jane was aware of the agents spreading out around the kitchen, cutting off Red John's escape. Although Jane didn't turn his attention away from the killer, he caught glimpses from the corner of his vision of the five agents holding up their guns with practiced ease. Lisbon unexpectedly stood _next_ to Jane — a surprise since she should have been in front of him, at least making the attempt to block him from the action.

Red John tipped the knife at the counter and Jane realized he was pointing at the scalpel stained with Cho's blood. "They shoot me now and you'll never find your lover in time." Lisbon shifted beside Jane though her raised gun never wavered. "How long has it been? He's in less than peak condition, wait too long and next time you see him you could be looking at a corpse."

"Where the hell is Cho?" Rigsby demanded. He stood near the stove, every muscle tense.

From the other side of Lisbon, Jane heard McIntyre clear his throat. "Agent Lisbon I believe--"

"Gun!" Henley's shout sent a jolt of panic through Jane.

Red John had dropped the knife in favor of the gun he drew from beneath his sweatshirt. He appeared undisturbed by the shouted warning. The agents around the room somehow managed to come even further to attention. Red John had yet to point the gun in any particular direction, the barrel directed at the floor.

"You have a choice, Patrick. One time offer, so you have to choose what you want more. Are you really going to let him down?" Red John asked disdainfully. "Let me leave and this time you can save your lover," he coaxed.

Lisbon said quietly, "Jane, we can't." Had it been any other situation Jane would have spared the time to cast her an exasperated look. As it was, he was trying to piece together what Red John had planned. There was something more going on than the apparent proposition. Something was wrong, beyond the obvious.

"Tick tock." Red John tilted his head to the side. Jane could tell from the body language that Red John was about to bring up the gun. "It was a limited time offer." In a fluid, almost graceful movement, Red John leveled the gun at Lisbon.

"Happy anniversary, Mister Jane."

Jane flinched at the loud rapport of Lisbon's gun firing. The sound bounced off the spacious tiled kitchen and left his ears ringing. By the time he managed to reorient himself, Rigsby and McIntyre were crouching over Red John's sprawled form and Lisbon had her arm held out to block Jane from moving forward.

"Status?" Lisbon barked. Her eyes were wide and she looked a little pale.

Rigsby tossed aside the blood-stained mask as he turned to look at her. "Having trouble breathing. Think you caught a lung."

Lisbon slowly lowered her arm and secured her weapon. Jane took advantage of her preoccupation and hurried forward to investigate over Rigsby's shoulder. 

The hood of the black sweatshirt Red John wore had fallen back due to the removal of the mask. A pale-skinned man with less than striking features was revealed. Red John had the looks that plain-clothes law enforcement envied: plain, normal features that likely had gotten overlooked and allowed him to blend in.

Red John's lips were parted and wet with blood. He audibly labored to breathe; an unnatural gurgling accompanied every other breath. Blood trailed down the corner of his mouth. McIntyre applied pressure to the entry wound while Rigsby looked on with a expression of anger and disgust. 

Red John's eyes, narrowed in obvious pain, slid to Jane and the man managed a grin, baring pink-stained teeth. Jane's fingers itched to pull McIntyre away and let the bastard choke to death on his own blood. Jane wanted to stand over Red John and watch the man die as his lungs flooded, wanted to see that moment that his life finally ended—

But Cho was still missing, and even more than wanting to see Red John die, Jane _needed_ to make sure Kimball was safe. 

McIntyre's voice startled Jane from his inner turmoil. "There's a basement, I saw windows at ground level."

"What?" Jane looked sharply at the agent who had been reporting the information to Lisbon. The question was more of an automatic response than any attempt to get the agent to repeat himself.

It took only a few moments for the information to click together in Jane's mind and the instant he figured it out, he brushed past Rigsby. He paused a moment in the pantry doorway to hit the light. It was larger inside than he had initially thought and just beyond the shelves he saw the second door.

Behind him he heard Rigsby's voice raised in curiosity and Lisbon calling for him to wait. Jane ignored them and opened the basement door. He ran his hand along the inner wall, searching for the light switch. As soon as the light turned on over the stairs, he rushed down, nearly stumbling on the last step.

"Cho?" he called. To one side an arched doorway led into a small finished room with exercise equipment and a wall lined with file cabinets. Jane dismissed it in an instant when he saw no other exit and turned the other way. A short hall held three more doors. The door at the end of the hall was partway open and light caught on laminate flooring that identified it as a bathroom. The nearest door led to an unfinished laundry room. 

Heart pounding against his chest, Jane grabbed the middle door's knob and turned it. "Cho?" he called again.

Jane noted basic details of the room out of habit (plain drywall, concrete floor with a drain, bare unfinished ceiling) but his real attention was focused on the man hanging by his wrists at the room's center.

Jane stepped into the room but after he moved out of the way to let the light in, he found himself frozen in place.

The light from the hall wasn't particularly bright but it carried into the room well enough for Jane to see. Cho's back was to the door. His wrists had been tied with rope and then fixed to a chain that attached to an exposed ceiling beam. The arrangement left Cho standing on the balls of his feet; his ankles were also bound with rope though the knots looked less tight. Black cloth had been tied around Cho's head and although Jane couldn't see the agent's face, he gathered that the cloth acted as a blindfold. 

Jane's stomach turned over unpleasantly as he stared at the dried trail of blood running down his lover's inner thigh. The brown track trailed to the back of Cho's knee before fading on his calf. In addition to the blood trail, Jane took in the sight of numerous fainter brown marks where blood dampened hands had traveled. His gaze kept returning to the blood on Cho's inner thigh and the handprints on his ass.

" _Damn it_ , Jane!" Lisbon's voice preceded her and it gave Jane the few seconds he needed to shake himself out of his stunned daze before she walked in. Rigsby and Van Pelt followed close behind.

" _Fuck,_ " Rigsby cursed feelingly. 

Van Pelt's hand flew up to cover her mouth and she blinked rapidly in obvious attempt to hold back tears. A muffled _oh my God_ came from behind her fingers.

Lisbon wasn't unaffected, but she recovered quickest. She snapped her fingers at Rigsby and pointed at Cho. "Help me get him down. Van Pelt, get in touch with Henley, he's meeting the ambulance."

Jane moved before the others could, unable to bear someone else reaching Cho first. His heart continued to beat a furious tattoo against his ribs. With the fear of what he might still find, that he was too late _again_ , Jane stepped around to face Cho.

"Kimball," the name came out a little hoarse, but he got a reaction. Cho's head jerked a little, chin lifting from his chest an inch before slowly dropping back down again. A small grunt accompanied the movement. Jane swallowed hard and reached out to cup Cho's face with one palm. "Kim, I'm right here." He ignored the ache caused by Cho's initial flinch at his touch. "I'm going to take the blindfold off." He saw movement from the corner of his eye and continued, "Rigsby's going to guide you down."

Cho's lips formed the correct shape to answer _Okay_ , but only his breath brushed against Jane's wrist. Jane's mind raced with worry and tried to come up with facts about dehydration and time tables. Keeping one hand against Cho's cheek, Jane reached around to pull the blindfold off from the back. Rigsby reached up for Cho's hands in the meantime but didn't make a move until Jane nodded.

"Jane, you've got to hold him up," Rigsby said, "I can't just let his arms drop."

"Okay." Jane stepped closer, again forcing himself to ignore the flinch of discomfort from Cho. Jane wrapped one arm around Cho's back in preparation of bracing his lover's weight. He guided Cho's head against his shoulder, and he could feel Cho gritting his teeth as Rigsby undid the chain overhead to get Cho's hand's free.

In less than a minute Jane heard the chain rattling free and heard the first sound from Cho since arriving. The high, pained note stopped quickly but the noise twisted in Jane's ear as he followed Rigsby's lead to lower Cho to the ground. Jane adjusted to kneel where he could support Cho in a reclining position from behind. By increments, Rigsby slowly lowered Cho's arms. Jane watched as both men grimaced with each movement. Cho's uneven breathing was the only other indication of pain. 

"You got him?" Jane asked quietly, darting his gaze to see Rigsby's nod. Jane let Rigsby come closer to brace Cho for a few moments while Jane slid out of his jacket. Wordlessly he handed it to Rigsby as he reclaimed his primary support position.

Rigsby lay the jacket over Cho. He frowned and a moment later pulled back the edge to bare Cho's right thigh.

"What...?" Rigsby blanched, even in the limited light coming from outside the room Jane could see the agent was disturbed.

Jane looked down and saw the mess of dried blood that still managed to portray the morbid smiley face. Jane wasn't terribly surprised. As he noted the path that the bleeding had followed, he released a long sigh of relief. Jane closed his eyes and gasped quietly as he realized just how terrified he had been that Cho may have been—

The blood... the handprints...

_Jesus._

Jane brushed a shaky hand over Cho's hair. "Any minute now," Jane said quietly. Cho hadn't fully opened his eyes yet. Every once and a while Jane caught a glimmer of light reflecting off eyes hidden by long lashes. Given the length of time Cho had spent blindfolded, Jane expected as much.

Van Pelt's agitated voice in the hall caught the men's attention. Jane and Rigsby turned to look out at Van Pelt and Lisbon.

"I told them we have an agent down!" Van Pelt said, her hand waving in emphasis.

Lisbon's arms were crossed tightly against her chest. Her lips pursed tight with anger but she had the look Jane recognized as her professional "I have to follow orders" expression. "Did you give them a summary of our situation?"

Van Pelt looked at the trio in the room with a frustrated expression. "Yes, and there _is_ an EMT coming down, but the other ambulance is still five minutes out."

Jane interrupted with a sharp demand, " _Other_ ambulance?"

Lisbon's eyes were hard when she glared at him. "Don't start. Units respond to the most critical cases first. We didn't know the situation and only had one call placed before we came into the house."

Jane's lip curled in revulsion. "We're left waiting here because someone wants to see to _Red John_ first?"

"There are procedures, Jane!" Lisbon snapped.

If Jane hadn't been holding Cho, he would have been tempted to jump up and shake her in frustration. "To _hell_ with procedure. He's a murderer! He's already choking to death on his own blood. What do they think they can do for him?"

Van Pelt made a sharp gesture that seemed to have no other meaning than to give her an outlet for her frustration. "There's still a chance he could live if they work fast enough. It depends how the bullet entered and where it got lodged."

Rigsby, quiet until that point, stood up and straightened to his impressive full height. Looking up at him from his position on the floor, Jane admitted that the usually gentle man appeared distinctly intimidating.

Lisbon took a deep breath, preparing to argue, no doubt, but she was saved from that by the sound of hurried footsteps coming down the stairs. A uniformed medical technician came into view with a boxy bag slung over her shoulder.

"Four minutes ETA," she announced on her way through the door. She moved quickly and efficiently, focusing on Cho immediately. "We need more light, is there something in here?"

Even as she searched, Van Pelt said, "I don't think so."

The EMT just nodded and pulled out a small flashlight from her bag. She switched it on and held it handle first to Jane. "Hold this where I tell you to, got it?"

Jane nodded, for the moment directing the light at the medical bag. Cho turned his face away from the light, eyes squeezed shut.

The EMT took a pair of scissors in her kit and cut through the rope around Cho's wrist. As she went about preparing a spot of skin on Cho's inner arm for the IV line, she verified what little information they knew of Cho's situation. She told the group bluntly that her qualifications were limited to basic necessities to secure patients for transport. Details of the events during Cho's capture would have to be ascertained more fully at the hospital to determine proper course of treatment. For the moment she would start Cho on fluids to begin counteracting the effects of dehydration.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway, the GOOD NEWS is that I've done a little research (and I loved [this blog](http://writersforensicsblog.wordpress.com)) and resolved my thoughts on certain aspects of the rest of the story that were causing me to twiddle my thumbs. I've got a good feeling about finishing the story ♥  
> 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [March 11, 2012] At last I return! This chapter is slightly longer than the last, making it the longest chapter. The first scene I had written in whole for _so long_ but hadn't finished up enough of the other scenes to make it post-worthy. Then a couple weeks ago inspiration struck. :)
> 
> Note that I've done some editing of past chapters and updated here on AO3.

\---

With Lisbon's support Jane managed to convince the ambulance crew to let him ride with Cho to the hospital. Melanie, the EMT who'd seen to Cho in the basement, turned her attention to Jane a couple minutes into the drive.

"Want to clean up?" she asked, indicating Jane's face.

Jane raised a hand, stopping just short of touching his cheek when he realized how he must look. He glanced down at himself but his shirt had escaped all but a few lines of blood; his jacket, probably left on the basement floor, was another story.

"Here." Melanie touched his cheek with a pad of damp gauze. Jane was tempted to move away but relented when he realized he wouldn't be able to do a good job without a mirror. "Looking better already," she assured with a small smile.

\---

At the hospital Jane was forced to stay in the waiting room. He attempted to charm his way past the young man working at the desk near the doors, but just as he was making progress, a middle-aged nurse appeared and leveled them both with a warning glare. Jane refused to show defeat but his continued attempts were half-hearted.

Lisbon, Rigsby, and Van Pelt arrived several minutes later and they headed straight for Jane.

"Paperwork?" Lisbon asked.

The younger nurse responded to the prompt. "For Mr. Kimball Cho? Do you have authorization to make medical decisions?"

Lisbon stepped up to the desk. "Yes, what do you need?"

"Let me call to check."

"I've got it, Mike," the other nurse said, standing up. "I can take you back to talk with the doctor." She shot Jane a smug smirk to which he responded with a chilly smile.

Lisbon glared at Jane and fixed a stern look at Rigsby and Van Pelt. "Stay put," she ordered.

It was very tempting to try sneaking past the doors behind Lisbon and the nurse, but a heavy hand settled on his shoulder and he stopped. He glanced sidelong at Rigsby, the taller man's face was set in a grim expression that didn't bode well for any argument. Van Pelt glanced between them nervously.

Jane relented, raising a hand in surrender before turning to the waiting room proper and running his gaze over the small clusters of people sitting around with bored, tired, or anxious expressions.

"He's going to be okay..." Van Pelt's voice lifted up at the end, making her statement more of a question. 

Jane knew he could reassure her that Cho would recover quickly, physically at least. He didn't really doubt that, even though he could tell he had lingering doubts that made him anxious for a status report. But physical wellness meant little when it came to full recovery. 

Rigsby gave Jane a quickly masked look of worry before responding. "Yeah, he'll be okay." Rigsby hesitated a few moments and then stepped closer to wrap a comforting arm around Van Pelt's shoulders.

Lisbon returned about fifteen minutes later and nodded approvingly to see them all present. She didn't wait to be prompted to speak about Cho's condition; "They're most worried about the dehydration and his shoulders, but he's not considered in critical condition. The doctor's thinking joint impingement, though they're still looking at the details. They've cleaned up the... cuts on his leg and there's no stitches needed."

"Is he awake?" Jane asked. His fingers twitched with restrained nervous energy. He wanted to go check on Cho himself.

"Kind of in and out, the doctor said. The dehydration has him pretty disoriented. They've also put him on painkillers so he'll be out for a while." Lisbon ran a critical gaze over Jane and he saw a spark of sympathy. "I asked about visitors. Cho should be moved to a room pretty soon and they'll let us in."

Jane murmured, "Thanks." Lisbon responded with a small smile of reassurance.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, then Rigsby cleared his throat and asked, "What about Red John?"

Jane's lips tightened in a frown at the mention of the murderer's name. He hoped the bastard was still choking to death.

Lisbon shook her head. "I don't know yet, McIntyre hasn't given me a call." She pulled out her phone and frowned at the screen. She glanced at the intake desk. "I would have thought he'd have to come through here."

Rigsby removed his arm from Van Pelt's shoulders and straightened up. "Need me to look into it?"

"That'd be great," Lisbon agreed.

After Rigsby departed, Van Pelt began to fidget. She looked down with an air of guilt that seemed odd to Jane. He and Lisbon exchanged a worried glance.

"Grace? You alright?"

Van Pelt's lips twitched up on one side in a crooked smile. She continued to look down at her fingers twisting together. "It's just... I'm not sure if I want Red John to live."

"I don't," Jane said coldly.

Both agents looked at him although they showed no surprise. The statement was hardly astonishing, Jane had always made it clear what outcome he wanted. He had wanted to kill Red John himself, would still gladly help the man along the way to his death. It just happened that the situation had forced Jane to prioritize and, perhaps a little unexpectedly, he had decided to put Cho first.

He met Lisbon's stare and saw acceptance in her gaze; that surprised him, given that she'd always supported the position of bringing Red John in to be subjected to the procedures of the justice system.

Van Pelt quietly admitted, "I don't want to deal with him." She crossed her arms and grimaced at the floor. "This—this isn't like me."

Lisbon laid her hand on the redhead's shoulder. "It's understandable," she murmured. Jane frowned at her strangely distant gaze, wondering what she was thinking. 

Before he could further examine Lisbon's reaction, the nurse at the desk called them over. "Agent Cho is being moved to room 304. The elevators down the hall here will take you up." 

Lisbon said "thank you" while Jane hurried ahead. Van Pelt had to double her stride to keep up with him.

\---

 

Jane felt himself beginning to unwind for the first time in days as he stepped into the room. Cho was asleep, Jane could tell from his lover's slack, slightly opened mouth. Cleaned up and covered with a hospital gown and blankets, Cho didn't look too bad. An IV drip and standard heart monitor had been situated near the bed but didn't take up much room.

Jane ignored the chairs available and sat on the edge of the bed. His fingers trembled as he reached out to stroke a couple bruises visible on Cho's chin and neck. He hadn't seen the marks earlier. Lisbon and Van Pelt pulled up chairs to the bedside but said nothing to interrupt Jane's silent examination.

The IV was taped into Cho's inner arm on the opposite side of where Jane sat. Beneath the blankets Jane knew the macabre face was covered by bandages. He wondered about scarring for a few moments, his gaze focused on the thin wool blanket. 

Lisbon cleared her throat and bumped her knee against Jane's to get his attention. He met her gaze.

"I need to catch up with McIntyre and check in with Hightower. I'll let you know if I have to head into the office." She stood up and her gaze wandered to Cho's face. "Call me when he wakes up." Before she left, Lisbon leaned down to cover Cho's hand with her own.

Van Pelt remained silent for a few moments after Lisbon's departure, then said, "I knew we'd get him back, but I wasn't sure we'd be in time." She wiped a finger over her eyes in a quick movement that almost hid the gathering tears. "Do you think he's alright?"

Jane opted to focus on Cho as he thought about how to respond. He could ignore the question entirely. He could give her a cynical answer. Alternatively, he could give her pat assurance. Instead he chose honesty:

"Not right now. But he will be."

He looked up when Van Pelt's hand captured his own. The redhead studied him with serious eyes, evaluating. After a few seconds she smiled softly and gave a nod of approval. "Yeah, he will." She squeezed Jane's hand and then let go as she settled into her chair.

\---

 

Lisbon stood alone at the window looking in on the ICU room. She'd finished her second call with Hightower ten minutes ago after Red John came through surgery. McIntyre and Henley were taking the lead in investigating the man's real identity. Rigsby had gone to see Cho and bring the rest of the team news. 

She watched the lines dance across the screen of the heart monitor and watched the respirator do its work to keep the man breathing. Jane wanted to kill this man. In the past he'd told her point blank that she needed to stay out of his way. Lisbon wondered when things had changed so that she was standing here alone without any real worry that Jane would show up to carry out his threat. 

The doctor had explained that Red John wasn't out of the woods yet, but the outcome seemed "hopeful." Lisbon had nodded in response, expression blank. She wasn't sure how she felt about the news. Van Pelt wasn't the only one who didn't want to deal with Red John. She wanted her team to be able to move on without the threat of the man's presence; although she knew that whether he was alive or dead, the case wouldn't be wrapped with a neat little bow. 

Lisbon glanced at the door and took a deep breath. She straightened her shoulders as she walked into the room and approached the bed. Her gaze flitted across the machines' readouts again, everything indicating that the man was unconscious. Despite the medical team's protests, they had acquiesced with the CBI's insistence that Red John be bound to the bed. McIntyre and Lisbon had consulted and agreed to the hospital's soft-lined restraints instead of handcuffs. 

Now Lisbon leaned over and tested each restraint for security. Satisfied with her check, she straightened up and prepared to leave. Halfway to the door, she turned around and leaned over the monster who had haunted her team for far too long. "You won't win, you fucker."

In another life she might have left the bastard to choke on his own blood back on the kitchen floor. A small part of her almost wished she had.

Lisbon turned and walked away.

\---

 

He felt the stirrings of consciousness long before he managed to wake up. His body felt leaden and he couldn't get the image of sinking into the mattress out of his mind. 

Cho's thoughts swirled around in lazy circles as he tried to make sense of his condition. He knew he'd been in a bad situation and that something had changed, but he couldn't seem to grasp onto the details. His aching body and groggy senses encouraged him back towards sleep.

 

In due time Cho's mind cleared enough that he could press his way to full awareness. The problem with waking up was the accompanying physical aches.

"Grace, could you get the lights?" The request was immediately followed by the sound of footsteps and a dimming of the light beyond Cho's eyelids.

He slowly opened his eyes and blinked until his surroundings became clear. Cho focused on Jane's lopsided grin.

"Hey sleepyhead." The blond looked like he might continue, but as his gaze caught with Cho's, he simply smiled a little wider.

"Hi," Cho croaked. He grimaced and looked around to gauge his surroundings. It quickly became apparent that he was in a hospital room and with that realization, groggy memories filtered back.

"Here's some water," Van Pelt said as she held out a cup with a straw. Her smile was bright with relief when Cho focused on her.

Cho tried to lift a hand to take the cup but almost immediately aborted the motion with a pained gasp. Warm hands landed on his biceps and gently rubbed along his arms. "Let Grace fuss over you for now, okay? How bad is the pain, do you want me to get a nurse?"

After the sharp burn mellowed to a dull ache, Cho shook his head. He accepted Van Pelt's help as she held the straw so he only had to lean his head forward. Several long drinks restored some moisture to his painfully dry mouth and throat. "Thanks," he told Van Pelt between sips. Jane's hands slid away as the blond resumed sitting on the edge of the bed by Cho's knee.

"You're awake!" Rigsby stood in the doorway, cardboard tray with four cups in hand. Rigsby crossed the room in a few short strides and looked down at Cho with an earnest expression. "How're you feeling?" 

"Alright," Cho replied. 

He glanced at the water Van Pelt held, and before he could ask for more, Jane intervened. "Here, I'll take that and you can take your coffee," Jane said as he reached for the water. To Cho, the shuffle of his teammates and the exchange of cups looked almost like a dance. Apparently Jane saw something in his expression hinting at his thoughts because he said, "You're nicely drugged at the moment."

Cho studied Jane carefully as he sipped at his water; he was only peripherally aware of Rigsby and Van Pelt. The blond's initial bright smile had dimmed slightly, giving way to visible lines of stress and exhaustion. Jane met Cho's assessing stare and instead of the usual defensive walls, Cho was able to see a mix of emotions — relief, concern, guilt; there was something softer there, too, which he didn't dare to name.

"Hey boss!" Rigsby's call turned everyone's attention toward the door. Lisbon walked in with a wan smile on her lips. "Just in time for coffee," Rigsby said as he held out a cup for her.

"Thanks," Lisbon accepted with a nod. She went around to the unoccupied side of Cho's bed. "Good to see you awake," she greeted.

"It's good to see you," Cho replied. "I'm done for now, thanks," he directed at Jane. The blond nodded and exchanged cups with Van Pelt; presumably his contained tea rather than the others' coffee.

After a few moments with her coffee, Lisbon took a deep breath and straightened up. Her body language put even Cho's drugged senses on-edge.

"What's up, boss?" Van Pelt prompted quietly.

Jane's hand settled on Cho's thigh and for a moment he felt acutely aware that his other thigh was bandaged. He didn't dwell on the memories long as Lisbon started speaking.

"McIntyre caught me on my way here. He was downstairs about fifteen minutes ago when Red John coded. They've called it."

Cho forced himself to ignore the pain in his shoulder as he moved his hand to rest on top of Jane's. He continued to stare at Lisbon, knowing he should be feeling something more than simply hollow at the announcement.

Cho wondered what had happened leading up to his hospitalization; he only had the vaguest memory of hearing Jane's voice in the darkness and an all-consuming _pain_ as his arms were lowered. He didn't know how the team had found him, or even where he'd been held, or what it had taken to reach him. He wanted to fill in the gaps to understand how Red John had ended up at the hospital, how the monster had died, but Cho couldn't find the words to ask for clarification.

Van Pelt cleared her throat and Rigsby muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Jane's hand turned over beneath Cho's and his fingers clasped their hands together. The movement finally prompted Cho to look at Jane. The blond's head was slightly bowed, gaze distant.

"Jane?" Lisbon murmured.

Cho gently squeezed Jane's hand and that seemed to get the other man's attention. Jane's gaze cleared in a couple blinks. He inhaled shakily and visibly appeared to pull himself together.

"Good. That's..." In a barely heard murmur he finished, "good." 

For long, dragging minutes it seemed like no one was going to say anything more. Cho's gaze dropped to his hands. He didn't know what to say, but he rubbed his thumb over the back of Jane's hand in wordless support.

Eventually Lisbon broke the stillness; she briefly rested her hand on Jane's shoulder to catch his attention. "Let's go for a walk while Van Pelt and Rigsby get Cho up to speed." Before Jane could vocalize the protest clear in his expression, Lisbon continued, "No arguing, you can spare a couple minutes to stretch your legs. We'll ask what we can bring back and pick something up for Cho, okay?"

Cho gently squeezed Jane's hand and released his hold when it looked like the blond still hadn't made up his mind. Jane ran a quick but assessing stare over Cho before standing.

"Any requests?"

"You know what I like," Cho easily dismissed. A beat later he qualified, "Keep it light."

"Got it." Jane's gaze slid to Lisbon briefly. "Guess we'll be back in a bit." For a moment it looked like Jane meant to do something else before leaving; Cho caught the short, aborted movement of the blond almost leaning forward. A flash of something vulnerable flitted across Jane's expression, gone before it really registered with Cho.

In all, mere seconds passed between the parting words and Jane's exit. Given that Rigsby almost immediately launched into the story of what had happened in the last several days, Cho doubted that anyone else had noticed Jane's brief hesitation.

\---

 

Lisbon ended up following Jane outside of the building into a small, well-kept courtyard. The early midday sun lit the whole space and caused Jane to squint when he turned to look at her. "You're wearing that suspiciously mothering look. Don't worry about me."

Raising an eyebrow to convey her skepticism, she returned, "That's hardly going to stop and you know it. And before you start arguing with me, I can multitask with my worrying and Cho's also high on my list. Between the two of you recently I don't know how I haven't gone gray."

Patrick's lips twitched slightly, which was reassuring, and he surprised her by leaning in and tucking her hair behind her ear. "I know who you'll blame it on if that happens."

They silently strolled along the pathway that curved around the courtyard's garden for a few minutes. Lisbon kept an eye on Jane as they walked but found it hard to get a read on him, which wasn't all that unusual. She wondered what took forefront in his thoughts – concern for Cho? Questions about Red John and his death? Her gaze dropped from his outwardly calm expression to Jane's shirt and unbuttoned vest. She grimaced at the sight of blood traces that cut across the plane of white. The rest of the team, herself included, had left the hospital at least once since the previous afternoon but Jane had stayed camped out at Cho's side since admission.

"You should take some time to clean up," Lisbon said.

"This your way of telling me I smell?" Jane asked in amusement. He looked confused when Lisbon stared pointedly at his shirt. He looked down and his smile faded. "Oh."

"It doesn't have to take long. We can all stick around while you go shower and change," Lisbon offered, keeping her tone casual as she made the suggestion.

Jane's gaze went distant as a tight frown took over his expression. After a while he asked, "Has the apartment been cleaned?"

Lisbon's thoughts flashed back to the moment she had stepped into Cho's bedroom and saw the bloodied trademark face above the bed. CSU had cleared the scene the same day Cho had gone missing, given that there hadn't been much else to catalog. "Not yet, I don't think." She realized as she answered that she had been thinking of Jane going "home" as in going to his house, not Cho's apartment. The more she thought about it, she acknowledged she should have known Jane had all but officially moved in with Cho; all indications pointed toward the men's relationship having become serious months ago.

As she sorted through those thoughts and moved on to wondering if it was wise to send Jane off alone to the apartment, the blond interrupted with something that halted all thought.

"Could you please arrange for the cleaners?" Jane's voice was quiet and strangely deferential; "For Cho's apartment and... and my house."

It took a few moments for Lisbon to fully comprehend what that meant. When the realization sunk in, she shot Jane a sharp look filled with surprise, horror, and a little bit of anger. How much had he preserved from his family's murder scene? She felt vaguely sick at the thought of Jane sitting and staring at Red John's mark on the wall, day in and day out. Why hadn't she ever thought to press for a visit before? She wished she'd known.

Instead of addressing her conflicting emotions on the revelation, she said, "I'll take care of it." She let out a long sigh, foregoing the accusatory _"Why didn't you tell anyone? How could you live like that?"_ that ran through her mind.

Jane wasn't looking at her; he just nodded and then waved his hand in a vague, dismissive gesture. "I'm just going to... I'll be back in a few minutes."

Lisbon swallowed her protest that they needed to talk when she took a good look at his face. Jane's calm expression had started to wear thin at the edges and she knew he needed some time. Maybe some breathing room would benefit her as well.

"Alright," she agreed. "I'll make some calls." She knew she'd made the right decision when she saw the minute relaxation of Jane's posture. He nodded, still not looking at her, and walked away. Lisbon sighed and dragged a hand over her face; she felt exhausted.

She pulled out her phone on her way toward the door leading inside. She wondered if she could call in any favors to erase Red John's signatures immediately. Lisbon just knew she didn't want Jane to ever again have to walk into a room and see that bloody sign painted on the wall for him.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this didn't disappoint! I know it's been a _long_ time. (Well, if any of you read _Shook the Bones_ you've been waiting longer - and will have to continue to do so. *wince*) ~~I have a goal of completing this fic before April Camp NaNoWriMo, however, so look for the final chapter(s) coming in the next couple weeks!~~
> 
> Endings are difficult as hell and I've struggled so much to get this far - I'm glad that I've made it, though!


	12. Chapter 12

\---

Cho held back a grimace as he used a hand to push himself to the side of the bed. His painkillers had been switched before leaving the hospital and though they left him feeling more clear-headed, he felt far more achy. Still, putting a little strain on his shoulder as he got up seemed more dignified than literally rolling out of bed. Jane would be the only one to see his awkward moment, but Cho didn't want to worry him. They hadn't had much chance to talk yet, not at the hospital nor since Cho's release the previous evening. After getting back to the apartment — which had been Cho's choice, he refused the idea of an unfamiliar hotel room — Cho had pretty much collapsed in the small guest bedroom and fallen asleep. He didn't remember covering up with sheets or Jane crawling in beside him; the sheets over his body and the indent in the pillow next to his own told him he'd slept through that.

Once on his feet, Cho took a moment to let his light-headedness recede. The doctor had firmly warned that he needed to be careful and keep up his fluid intake for the next week. Cho headed for the bathroom after taking a quick look down the hall; Jane was probably in the kitchen or living room.

He had yet to have a full, proper meal and his stomach chose to grumble loudly in protest. He shuffled out of the bathroom still feeling a little groggy and went to the kitchen. No Jane, but Cho zeroed in on the bottle of water set on the counter. He took long swallows and opened the refrigerator to judge his food options. He was eyeing the drawers at the bottom of the fridge and wondering how much bending over would hurt when he realized he still hadn't heard Jane. He closed the fridge door and set aside the water bottle.

A chill rippled through him as he approached the doorway and looked out into the living room. Still no Jane. A glance at the front door showed the deadbolt engaged. Cho glanced down the hall again and listened for a few moments. His place was small, there was only one other room where Jane could be, and Cho wasn't sure how to feel about it.

Cho approached his bedroom door and paused with his scabbed fingertips resting on the knob. He hadn't seen what Red John left behind, though Rigsby and Van Pelt had told him that the murderer's signature marked the wall.

Inhaling quietly, Cho braced himself and gripped the knob firmly before turning it. His eyes flickered closed without his permission as he opened the door and he felt frozen for an indeterminate moment where he was caught between reality and nightmare, afraid of what he would find when he opened his eyes.

"Hey," Jane's quiet greeting floated through the haze of Cho's irrepressible trepidation. With a shaky exhale, Cho opened his eyes and found himself staring at the wall above the bed. No bloody face, but he saw the scrubbed, bleach-stained patch where cleaners had obviously come in. His gaze dropped to look at Jane, who sat at the edge of the bed staring back at him, a wrinkle of concern lining his forehead.

"When?" Cho asked. He was aware of clutching the doorknob with one hand and the door frame with the other, bracing himself at the room's entrance. He wanted to leave, even if the haunting red face no longer marked the wall; even though he had never seen it in his space, he could practically feel its presence. He did not want Jane lurking in its shadow, either.

"I asked Lisbon to arrange things," Jane answered, voice still quiet. The blond turned to stare at the wall, and Cho shuddered as his own gaze went back to the blank space. "Guess she called in some favors to get it done quickly."

Cho's fingertips began to sting and his shoulders ached in protest of his tensed posture. He couldn't tear his gaze away, though, and he could all too vividly imagine the ghoulish face dominating the scene as an unsuspecting person opened the door. He felt Red John's hands at his throat again, remembered the cool edge of the blade threatening his skin. His thigh throbbed in remembered pain as blood was forced to the surface for the murderer to spread it across his body.

"Kimball."

Cho blinked and his vision cleared away from the flashback. Jane stood in front of him, eyes haunted and worried. When their gazes met, Jane placed his hands on Cho's wrists and gently tugged. Cho released his grip and let Jane turn him back to the hall. They stepped out of the room and Jane closed the door firmly behind them. Cho started to take a step toward the kitchen but stopped when Jane's arms suddenly wrapped around his waist and embraced him. Cho closed his eyes and slumped against the support his lover offered. 

"I'm sorry," Jane murmured against Cho's shoulder. His arms tightened and he turned his face against Cho's neck.

Swallowing thickly, Cho said, "It's not your fault." It wasn't; it had never been. He knew the guilt haunted Patrick from the past and there was little he could do about that. But this, he wanted to stave off that guilt from the start. He still had to work on exactly how he was going to get Jane to believe it, but Cho would insist until it got through the man's thick skull.

"Are you hungry?" Jane asked after a few minutes of standing in the hallway, embracing Cho and supporting most of his weight.

"Yeah. Was digging for something when I went looking for you." Cho opened his eyes and straightened up. Jane seemed to reluctantly withdraw his arms. His hand lingered lightly on Cho's back as they headed for the kitchen.

"I can fix you something. Sit down and drink some water." Jane pushed insistently on Cho's back when they entered, leading Cho to a chair at the table. "How about something light?" he asked as he retrieved Cho's water bottle.

"Anything's fine," Cho said. He accepted the water gratefully and drank as Jane rummaged around in the fridge and cupboards. Cho shifted in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position without much luck. His body ached something fierce and wasn't likely to return to normal for some time yet. No torn connective tissue or sprains, luckily, but the dual shoulder impingement was no walk in the park.

"Lisbon called earlier," Jane said, tone too casual as he pulled out a knife to begin slicing an apple. His back was to Cho.

"Oh?" Cho prompted quietly. He almost wasn't sure he wanted to know what it was about. Rigsby and Van Pelt had given Cho an overview of events while he was still in the hospital, but he hadn't asked for details. It was strange for him not to delve further into a case, get all the questions answered, but this had been an unusual situation. He found himself reluctant to have all the gaps filled in. That it was over felt like it should be enough.

"Results came back. It was a blood clot, doctors say it happens sometimes."

Red John's cause of death, then. The smallest things could complicate injuries and lead to death. Cho knew that, had been aware of that happening before. Blood clots might even have been a higher risk than normal due to the location of the wound. He stared blankly into the distance, the imagined sound of a flatlining heart monitor echoing in his ears.

"Is there an investigation?" Cho asked, meaning into Lisbon's shooting and ultimately Red John's death while in custody.

"She didn't say," Jane answered. His hands stilled on the counter and he glanced over his shoulder. "She didn't do anything wrong," he said with a frown.

Cho shrugged and regretted the motion immediately. "Doesn't mean someone's not going to be thorough." He gingerly raised a hand to rub at the sorest shoulder. "She'll be fine, though. It's just more hoops."

Jane shook his head as he went back to preparing food. "She said she'd try calling you later after you had more time to rest. She's holding off Rigsby and Van Pelt at the moment by giving them busywork."

The thought of Rigsby's longing glances at the phone brought a small smile to Cho's lips. He appreciated Lisbon's interference, though; he wasn't up to much company or the overcrowding of worried coworkers. _Friends,_ he corrected himself. It had been good to see everyone safe and sound when he first woke up but now he appreciated the simple presence of Jane. It was enough, along with the familiarity of his home, even if part of him felt uneasy in a place that had been twice invaded.

"Don't think too hard, you'll get a headache," Jane chided with a smile. He slid a plate loaded with crackers, cheese, and apple slices across the table. "Need more water?" he asked, nodding to the mostly empty water bottle.

"Probably a good idea," Cho agreed as he nudged the bottle towards Jane's reaching hand. 

In a few minutes they settled at the table across from one another in silence. It wasn't perfectly relaxed, but the tension was bearable and it was more a sense of weariness than anything else that haunted the air. 

When the plate was almost clear, Jane asked, "Are you sure you want to stay here?"

The question managed to surprise Cho. He met the blond's serious gaze and tried to get a sense of Jane's thoughts on the matter. It wouldn't be in Jane's character to bring up doubts of his own in such an obvious way, but while Cho felt vaguely on-edge, being at his own apartment wasn't difficult. "It's fine." Caught up in the sense that he was missing something, he added under his breath, "Besides, where else would I go?"

Jane's gaze darted away for a moment as some unnameable emotion flashed through his blue eyes. Cho felt his lips part in surprise as his pain-addled mind pieced together the logical conclusion. He inhaled sharply, preparing to say something, anything, but Jane beat him to it.

"I was thinking," Jane started quietly. "You could keep me company while I did some things around the house." Jane's gaze finally returned to meet Cho's surprised stare. "I have some things to sort out. When you're up for it, there's some painting to do."

Cho knew he must look ridiculous as he silently stared back with his mouth agape. His brain had a hard time processing the suggestion. Jane was clearly sincere in the offer, even seemed like it was his preferred plan of action. It sent something like a shiver along Cho's nerves and he felt oddly giddy and light-headed. Jane was... offering to take him to the house. The blond was suggesting... Well, although it seemed a little unbelievable, Cho trusted his read on the situation. Jane was implying that he was preparing to move on.

When Cho could focus again, he saw the tense lines around Jane's mouth and a worried look in the blond's eyes. There was really only one way to answer, wasn't there? Cho couldn't make that decision at the moment. He cleared his throat and fumbled for his water bottle. "Uh... I need to..." He broke eye contact as he shook his head. "Let me, let me think on it." He stood up abruptly. He was halfway to the doorway before he stopped and turned around. He licked his dry lips as he met the studiously blank expression Jane cast his way. "I'm sorry," he murmured, holding back a grimace. "I just... need some more sleep."

Although he knew it was running away, Cho retreated to the guest bedroom and curled under the blankets on his side. He stared at the little side table and his cell phone set at the base of the lamp. His heart pounded heavily against his chest and his thoughts spun from surprise. He thought a little giddily, _Red John's dead. It's over._ The scars would linger; the murderer had left plenty of marks that would haunt their lives, but the man himself was gone. 

Red John was gone and Jane was still here. Cho felt some of the tension fading as he began to truly accept that fact. _Jane is here with me, in my kitchen._

Jane hadn't gone off to the office to talk to Hightower or spoken with Lisbon about turning in his consultant badge. Jane wasn't obsessing over the details of the wrap-up and ignoring all else. 

Cho pushed himself upright and sat on the edge of the bed, staring for a long while at his shaky hands. At least, he didn't think Jane had talked to Lisbon about leaving. Whenever he'd been awake, Jane had been close by. But...

Before he could think better of it, Cho grabbed his phone and scrolled to Lisbon's number. She answered on the first ring.

_"Hey, you okay?"_

"I'm fine," Cho replied automatically. He imagined her suspicious frown as his voice came out a little hoarse. "I wanted to know if Jane asked to speak to Hightower."

_"And he'd go through me, why?"_ she returned with some amusement. Lisbon was astute enough to catch onto his genuine worry, though. _"I sincerely doubt he's about to quit and walk away,"_ she said, tone unusually gentle. _"Listen, did Jane tell you about the coroner's findings?"_

"Yes," he answered, not sure where she was going with that.

_"I called him with the information. He didn't ask me. The only thing he's asked for since we got you to the hospital was to arrange for the cleaners."_ She went quiet and Cho let the confirmation of his suspicions sink in. Jane had been close by since he woke up, never out of sight for long, though never clingy. _"Whatever it is that has you rattled..."_ she sighed, the one that said she knew she was crossing the line of professionalism into personal. _"I'd say you don't have to worry, Cho."_

Cho swallowed hard and rubbed a hand over his face. "Okay." More firmly he said, "Thanks."

_"You should have another day or two before you have to do anything work-related. Rest up."_

"Yes, boss," he acknowledged. "Bye."

As soon as he hung up, Cho stood and dropped the phone on the bed.

He found Jane still in the kitchen, though the blond had moved to the stove where the kettle was just beginning to steam. Jane turned with a questioning look as Cho stepped into the room.

"I don't know what kind of timeline you're thinking," Cho started, making sure their eyes met, "but I'll only need to grab a few things."

A smile quickly graced Jane's expression. "Yeah. Me, too," he agreed. And that was, well, a previously unspoken acknowledgment of their living situation. He moved to stand in front of Cho. His hands settled on Cho's waist as he leaned in to initiate a chaste kiss. Faces close together, he asked Cho, "You're sure?"

"You are," he replied, and that was significant.

\--- 

 

Lisbon came down the stairs with two empty water bottles in hand. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, although strands of hair had escaped and seemed to float around her face. The loose hair and the smear of paint on her cheek made her look especially young. 

"How's it going?" Cho asked as he stepped away from the cutting board. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed two new water bottles as Lisbon crossed the room. Painting was still a little beyond Cho's abilities, but Jane had offered him the task of preparing dinner so that he wasn't stuck sitting around uncomfortably idle. 

"I'm waiting for the paint warfare to start," Lisbon replied with an amused snort. She looked around the kitchen and grinned. "Looks great. Need any help?"

Cho shook his head. "I'm fine. I'm pretty sure Rigsby's going to be early, though, so you should probably finish up there soon."

"Jane said the same thing," Lisbon agreed. She pulled out her hair-tie and brushed her hair back into some order before putting it back into a ponytail. "It shouldn't take much longer." She picked up the chilled water with a nod of thanks and headed back upstairs.

Cho returned to preparing the fruit salad. He heard Lisbon's indignant yelp and Jane's laughter floating down the stairs and smiled to himself. It sounded like Lisbon's prediction of "paint warfare" was accurate. He guessed that they had finished painting the bedrooms and moved on to the upstairs office. Yesterday Cho had at first been confused when Jane picked out three paint colors at the hardware store; then he'd slipped into stunned silence as the blond calmly explained that most of the rooms could use a fresh coat of paint before he listed the house. When Lisbon arrived to help paint, she caught a moment alone with Cho and muttered, "I told you, you didn't have to worry."

Ten minutes later, Cho checked on the chicken in the oven before heading for the downstairs bathroom. The vanity was cluttered due to he and Jane living downstairs since they arrived a few days ago. He tucked their toiletries into the drawers and gave the counter a perfunctory wipe-down before changing the hand towel. He turned to leave when a glint of gold caught his eye.

Cho froze for a long moment, staring at the gold ring hanging on a chain from the corner of the medicine cabinet. There was no misidentifying the wedding ring. Feeling like his heart had lodged in his throat, Cho touched the ring. Its cool, smooth solidity was almost a surprise.

_"Most of the house needs a fresh coat of paint before I list it. Then I was thinking, if you'd be interested... we could look around for a place."_

_"I could do that."_

Any lingering doubts he may have had about the permanence of his relationship with Patrick fell away as the gold warmed between his fingertips.

The doorbell rang, breaking through his daze. Taking a steadying breath, Cho went to let in Rigsby and Van Pelt.

\--- 

 

Dinner was delicious, as Jane had expected. Cho's cooking surprised the others, though, and it was a reminder that they all kept much of their personal lives private. Jane wasn't the only one who had blocked visitors. He also wasn't the only one now opening doors. Van Pelt waved aside Cho's attempts to start removing the plates and stood up to gather dishes herself. Rigsby got up to help and Jane smiled to himself as he saw the two move with an easy, familiar grace. The recent scare had brought them closer into orbit around each other, again. If he wasn't mistaken, they would be attempting to find a way to date again within the month.

"Drink refills?" Lisbon offered as she unfolded her legs and stood up to stretch.

"Please," Jane accepted, lifting his glass.

"Oh! I brought something, actually," Van Pelt said from the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder at Rigsby with a warm smile and Jane realized his estimate had been off.

"Paper bag," Rigsby jerked his head in the right direction as he grinned back at the redhead, his smile holding the smallest bit of nervousness. Interesting.

Lisbon's eyebrows were arched high in suspicion, but she slowly sank back into her chair and didn't question the proceedings. Cho watched the two in the kitchen with eyes narrowed in thought. Within a few minutes, Van Pelt and Rigsby had set out a handful of plastic champagne flutes and brought out a bottle of Moscato. "I thought I remembered you not being the champagne type," Van Pelt said to Cho, smiling nervously.

"That's fine." Cho leaned forward as Rigsby opened the bottle and began to pour. "We're celebrating something?"

"Well, obviously it's great that you'll be coming back to work tomorrow and we've closed the case—"

"But there's something else," Jane interrupted. The redhead bit her lip and glanced Rigsby's way. "Hmm. Wayne?" he asked pleasantly. 

Rigsby cleared his throat and straightened up. "Well, I thought about this offer I got recently. There's an opening with the arson team. Anders is retiring in a couple months and he had suggested I come over to be part of the unit, get familiar with everyone so, uh, when he does retire," he paused as his smile broadened with pride, "I can take the lead."

Cho's eyes widened slightly in surprise and Lisbon seemed to relax a little, the suspicion fading. Jane clapped his hands together to break the silence. "Congratulations!" He stood and held out his hand. Rigsby looked a little dazed as he smiled and accepted the handshake. Jane tilted his head to get a good look at Van Pelt and winked at her. "I take it there's a secondary reason for the transfer." Rigsby's blush more than confirmed that.

Cho ducked his head though Jane could still see his smirk. Lisbon shook her head with a chuckle. "Good for you. Both of you." She took the opportunity to shake Rigsby's hand next. "Congratulations, Wayne. I was wondering if you'd decided."

"Thanks, boss," he said, rubbing the back of his neck like a bashful teenager.

Van Pelt passed around the champagne flutes. Once her hands were free, she slipped her fingers between Rigsby's.

"Now might be a good time to mention something else about team adjustments," Lisbon said as everyone reached for their glasses. Her gaze darted around the table as she hesitated. Jane knew she didn't mean to be dramatic, but she came off that way. "I knew that Rigsby was considering the offer from arson, so Hightower and I were discussing some team additions. We're looking at transferring Henley and McIntyre to the team." She turned her glass this way and that as she looked around the table, expression bland though her eyes gave away her worry. Rigsby just grinned a little when she looked at him.

"Hey, nice to know I can't just be replaced by one guy!" 

Cho snorted softly and Rigsby looked mildly suspicious.

"They're good agents," Van Pelt determined. "I've worked with Henley a couple of times."

"They're both dedicated to doing good work," Cho agreed. He glanced at Jane and his lips twitched in a way that meant he was suppressing a smirk. "And they have amazingly resisted the urge to try and strangle Jane." For that, Jane leaned over to flick his lover lightly on the ear. Cho leaned away with a look of exasperation.

Lisbon was fighting back a grin as she watched them. "Yes, that was definitely a consideration. And narrowed down the options." Her eyes glinted with humor as Jane dramatically clasped a hand over his heart.

"So there will be more than one change in the office. When is all this shuffling taking place?" Jane asked, glancing between Rigsby and Lisbon.

"I'll finish up the week in Serious Crimes," Rigsby said, "so that my end of things is wrapped up and I can pack up the desk to move. Then, um, I guess I'll be up a floor." He looked like that change was starting to sink in.

"You deserve it, man," Cho assured gently. "Doubt you'll be out of sight for long."

"Yeah, I'll definitely be around," Rigsby agreed. Van Pelt ducked her head shyly.

"Henley and McIntyre have already been around to help with the last case," Lisbon explained; Cho and Jane had only briefly been by headquarters to have official statements recorded. "They'll be a more permanent fixture in a couple weeks. They have their own paperwork to complete, and Hightower has to finalize the arrangements since we'd floated the opportunity as a likelihood but without guarantee."

"Plenty to celebrate, then. A toast?" Jane lifted his glass and looked around the table. Rigsby and Van Pelt joined him. Lisbon lifted her glass a little, then her gaze darted sidelong to Cho, who was fingering the stem but hadn't raised his.

"Uh... something else?" Van Pelt asked, her hand lowering slowly as she stared at Cho in some confusion. Rigsby sighed and set his glass back on the table.

Jane wondered what announcement Cho had to share to the others. They hadn't talked about advertising their decision to move in together; it wasn't in either of their natures to overtly state a personal decision like that. And if the announcement didn't have to do with _them_ , then how on earth had Cho managed to hide it? "Is there something else?" Jane prompted.

Cho glanced at Lisbon and she arched an eyebrow that read "you're the one who brought it up." One of Jane's conversations with Lisbon during their afternoon painting came back to him. He had asked her about the department's fraternization rules and she'd rolled her eyes at the terminology before quoting the policy against coworkers dating. _"Not within the same unit,"_ she'd explained. _"Don't you remember all this from Rigsby and Van Pelt?"_

_"Ah, right. So it's about not getting acknowledged,"_ he noted. Lisbon had glared at the reminder that she'd been willfully blind to the relationship until they'd made an announcement. Jane had held back from continuing that argument when he remembered that Hightower had also turned a blind eye since Red John's implication-filled letter was sent to Cho.

_"She's not going to ignore it forever,"_ Lisbon said as she returned her roller to the paint tray. _"And before you say it, no, just because you're a consultant doesn't mean you escape these rules. They're part of your contract, too."_

In the present, Cho cleared his throat and turned to meet Jane's stare. "I'm meeting with Hightower when I go in tomorrow to discuss my options."

"Why?" Jane knew the answer, though he wanted to hear the response. However, he shouldn't have asked the question with the others around. Cho gave him a look that said it was a dumb question, either way.

"For God's sake, sometimes it's like I'm a chaperone to a bunch of hormonal teenagers!" Lisbon muttered. "Can we get on with the toast here? I'd like to drink my damn wine."

Rigsby chuckled and Jane caught movement from Van Pelt from the corner of his eye, but he was still focused on Cho. Kimball stared back, expression serious.

"To change!" Van Pelt announced. "And friendship that lasts throughout the challenges we face."

"To the future," Rigsby said.

"The future," echoed around the table. Jane lifted his glass automatically and felt the gentle bumps from the others' glasses. 

As Jane took a sip of wine, Cho leaned over and threaded his fingers through Jane's ring-less hand. Cho brought their glasses together and murmured, for Jane's ears only, "To a new chapter."

Disregarding their audience, Jane closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Kimball's.

\--- --- ---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _At last_ it is finished. :) Chapter "13" is author's notes - about plot choices  & thank-yous.


	13. Final Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's notes and thank-yous, since some explanations were in order.

Even if I had finished this story back in 2010 (/early 2011), I would have written about this story's portrayal of Red John. Now that it's _years_ later and I've missed four seasons, including the reveal of Red John's identity... Well, I definitely want to speak up.

I've given you next to nothing in the way of answers for Red John here. He's a man that was easily overlooked in crowds, he could blend in easily and slipped people's notice whenever he wanted. I considered developing a background for Red John, trying to explain how he held so much sway over people, dig into his obsession with Jane. That struggle was a large part when I dithered over the final chapters. Could I develop something satisfactory for the reader? When I ultimately decided to leave Red John a mystery, I wondered if I was short-changing the reader. I suppose part of me worries a bit over that, but I still stand by my decision.

_Why leave so much unanswered?_ Well, first of all, the unknown is often the most disturbing, the most scary. Red John was a sociopath, no rational, compassionate person was going to fully wrap their head around him. Second, this whole fic series has been as much about the progression of Jane and Cho's relationship as it was about my reaction to the S2 finale. Roses are Red was always meant to be about getting Jane and Cho to a place where they both recognized a permanent sort of commitment to each other. In order to give them a clear shot at the future together, the book of Red John had to be closed — Jane had to let go of that obsession, so I pitted that against his relationship with Cho. (Back before this story became part of the Crimson  & Gold series, I had planned to have both Lisbon and Cho kidnapped. This was about Jane realizing that he had more in his life than the drive for revenge.)

As for Red John's death here. Whew. That was another _huge_ debate with myself. What I really wanted to do was have his death caused by an air bubble in the IV line; I wanted to leave the implication of the possibility that Lisbon may have futzed with the line, leaving it up to the reader to decide if she had helped along his death or not. Basically, I knew I didn't want this guy to stand trial (he'd get out of it) and I knew I didn't want Jane to kill him. I never figured out a way to write that to my liking, though, and there was a feeling I had about the anti-climatic announcement that seemed to fit.

In short, I can understand if there's reactions of frustration or confusion or disappointment (though I hope that's not the popular reaction). I have my reasons for writing what I did and this story took as long as it did to finish because I wanted to do my OTP justice. And sometimes... many times, we don't get answers to our major questions in life.

(On an additional note, I avoided major spoilers for _years_ voluntarily. Then at the beginning of Jan. '14 I recalled hearing mention that Red John was finally revealed and I decided to read up on that storyline. Cue me reading the Wikipedia page on the Red John storyline. Cue lots of frowning. At least in reading... well, I'm not keen on the whole conspiracy line where things went. I'll reserve firming up my opinion until I finally catch up.)

**Thank-yous:** I met some of my favorite people ever thanks to my Cho/Jane 'shipping. Every one of them helped stir my passion for the characters and memories of our conversations kept me wanting to return to this no matter how much time passed. Thank you X_art for the amazing stories that originally inspired me to look into this pairing; I also have appreciated our e-mail conversations in the past, sorting out headcanon and such. All my love to the wonderful Cedara and Heffermonkey, who have cheered me on, let me vent about Frye (grr), chat headcanon, and have acted as betas on numerous occasions. The Crimson  & Gold series wouldn't exist without you and my desire to finish it probably wouldn't have been nearly as successful had you not been around. I'd be remiss if I didn't give a shout-out to tfwftw (always encouraging!), the_torrid_pen (enjoyable idea-bouncing), and ruugar (who writes lovely stories and made a great cover/banner for my fic ages ago).

I also want to thank everyone who has left kudos or commented on the series. You're the ones who reminded me that this story needed to get out of my head and be shared. Your interest inspired persistence and I can only hope that I've managed to create something you'll want to read again.


End file.
